


Then Hope Flew Away

by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, Canonical Drug Use, F/M, Post 5x05, Unwanted Advances, We don't hate Echo here please, hurt!bellamy, hurt!clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14801304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky/pseuds/ChasetheWindTouchtheSky
Summary: Clarke often used to gaze up at the sky, wondering what secrets were kept amongst the stars. She forced herself to look past the magic, the light, and track the Ark – or what she wanted to believe was the Ark. She would wait until Madi fell asleep, clamber on top of the Rover, lay back, and watch the night sky.And she would wonder.Honestly, Clarke isn’t sure if she would’ve preferred to keep wondering.~~~~~~Diyoza comes to Octavia with an offer involving Clarke's mother, so naturally, Clarke and Bellamy crash the meeting. Except the deal involves one of them in the worst possible way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up 5 seasons late with Starbucks* What up, this is my first 100 fanfic.
> 
> So, I started The 100 recently and have gotten super obsessed. 
> 
> Since we didn’t get a new episode tonight, I’m going to do something I vowed never to do after Teen Wolf: write fanction about it.
> 
> A few things of note: this fic is all canon compliant – up until 5x05. I don’t think this is the way the show is going to go, so once 5x06 airs, this will deviate from that. But everything up until Shifting Sands has happened.
> 
> This will be multi-chapter, switching between Clarke / Bellamy’s POV. And yes, the title is a reference to the story of Pandora’s Box. Hope you enjoy, you beautiful manatees.

CHAPTER ONE

_Clarke_

 

 

Clarke often used to gaze up at the sky, wondering what secrets were kept amongst the stars. She forced herself to look past the magic, the light, and track the Ark – or what she wanted to believe was the Ark. She would wait until Madi fell asleep, clamber on top of the Rover, lay back, and watch the night sky.

 

And she would wonder.

 

Honestly, Clarke isn’t sure if she would’ve preferred to keep wondering.

 

Because when the sun rises on the eleventh day since Eligius landed, Clarke finds herself staring at an unforgiving sky with Madi wrapped as close to her as possible, as if she could protect her from the clamoring and anger that emerged from the bunker. Gazing at the young nightblood, Clarke finds her chest seizing with a fear that she hasn’t been able to shake ever since Gaia laid eyes on her. She’s spent all her energy desperately keeping Madi out of the eyesight of she and Octavia – and failing miserably. It isn’t hard to spot Madi amidst the dreary and violent Wonkru. Her childish laughter and free spirit lights up the camp, as if a signal for all to see: here lies the last true nightblood.

 

It’s a full time occupation, keeping her away from them. At least, that’s what she tells herself when Bellamy tries to catch her eye and she can do nothing more than drop her own gaze to the ground.

 

Because that’s the issue, isn’t it? He’s always looking up to the sky and she’s forever cursed to the ground.

 

Clarke huffs. She never thought she’d be the final Grounder of Earth.

 

Madi stirs, her eyes blinking slowly. _“Os sonop, ai niron.”_ Clarke murmurs, running her fingers through Madi’s hair as much as she can. Madi gives a faint smile, like a whisper of what their lives used to be like. Clarke would do anything to keep that smile there.

 

 _“Os sonop.”_ Madi returns with a yawn. “Have you just been watching me sleep? That’s weird.”

 

Clarke can’t help but roll her eyes at the child. “You better wake up fast, _ai niron_ , or I’m going to eat all your breakfast.”

 

Madi shoots up, eyes wide. Clarke laughs at her reaction, barely able to stand before Madi rushes to the make-shift mess hall Wonkru has set up in Polis as a temporary measure. Clarke surveys the grounds around her, the decrepit city doing nothing to quell the ghosts in her mind. _I’m a different person now_. She tells herself for what feels like the millionth time, stepping into the city that destroyed her, and then itself. _This is not the same_.

 

Except how isn’t it? They were at war then, they are at war now.

 

Clarke looks at her hands. The carousel of violence will never stop turning. What is the point in humanity if it does nothing but destroy one another?

 

“There’s a meeting we should be a part of.”

 

If Clarke was a more open person, she would’ve yelped. Bellamy appears at her side, not giving her the opportunity to rush away, murmur and excuse, or hide behind Madi in some capacity. He may have aged some years, but he’s the same in every way Clarke can imagine – it’s amazing and also terrifying. The only difference is that he’s a little softer, his eyes not hardened with the burden of war and constant death. He hesitates before drawing his gun as well as a punch, the first to suggest peace instead of battle. It’s as if time switched he and his sister.

 

“A meeting?” Clarke asks, not meeting his eye.

 

She knows she has no claim to him – logically, she knows that. Her head tells her over and over again that six years is a long time, and he didn’t spend it on a desolate planet by himself. He spent it in space, surrounded by people he loves and love him back. Of course he would be with someone. It’s Bellamy.

 

Except… except he didn’t tell her. Clarke tells herself this is why she’s upset, she tells herself that she was surprised at the casual romance.

 

Her heart screams an objection.

 

Perhaps the head and the heart don’t work quite as well as she thought.

 

Bellamy nods. “Apparently Diyoza wants to make a bargain.”

 

Clarke fixates ahead of her. “That’s promising.”

 

“Clarke, they’re bringing your mother.”

 

 _That_ gets her attention. Her head snaps up and she stares. She stares into the eyes that she looked to for comfort – that she looked to in order to find peace. They’re the same as always, open and desperate, like he still can’t quite believe that she’s standing in front of him. The sunlight hits them and oh, the stars have nothing on its light. Clarke spent so much time gazing at the stars when she knows what she truly was missing. “What?”

 

Bellamy nods. “They’re bringing your mother – and Marcus, I’d imagine.”

 

Clarke frowns. “How exactly did you come across all this information?”

 

For a brief moment, a smile cracks over Bellamy’s face. “Miller wasn’t pleased that Octavia is so cavalier to let people die for her.”

 

Clarke snorts. “You two were very close.”

 

“Yeah, well. I think that ship has sailed.” He says wistfully. “I knew things would be different on the ground, but I don’t think I ever truly knew the extent of it.” He says so softly, she wasn’t entirely sure she heard him correctly.

 

“Yeah,” she agrees, dropping her gaze.

 

They don’t say anything for a few moments, except unlike before, the silence isn’t comfortable. It writhes and worms its way into Clarke’s spine, making her want to run. She desperately wished her first reaction wasn’t to sprint in the opposite direction, but there was nothing more she’d rather do than leave.

 

Except she can’t. Not again.

 

“Are we okay?” Bellamy asks, his voice small and tentative in a way she never experienced.

 

“Okay?”

 

“I-I just have felt… it’s been weird between us. Since the rest of Spacekru came back.” He doesn’t need to say the words. They both know.

 

“Of course we’re okay, Bellamy,” she says, lying because it’s the only thing she knows to do at this point. “We’ll always be okay.”

 

“It just feels like, you may have been avoiding me the past couple days.” He presses, turning his entire body to face her.

 

She can feel his gaze on her like a shroud, imploring her to look up. Clarke takes a deep breath, steels the last pieces of her heart and looks up. His face is heartbroken and eyes terrified, and it’s everything she can do to not reach for him then and there. Except that’s the issue. He’s no longer in her reach.

 

Even for the years they spent apart, she clutched that radio and she felt like he was there. He was a presence next to her, forcing her to cling to her humanity, to remember who she was. And now that he’s back on the ground? She’s never felt further away from him.

 

She realizes she hasn’t said anything and quickly shakes her head. “It’s been chaotic. You know I’ve been worried about Gaia realizing Madi’s a nightblood.”

 

“Yeah, I get it.” Bellamy says, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know I’ll protect her too, right? I promise to make sure Octavia and Gaia don’t touch her.”

 

Clarke nods because she _does_ know this. It doesn’t change the fact that everything’s different.

 

“Yes.” She says with as much conviction as possible.

 

She stares at him, allowing herself this one indulgence, knowing that she’ll have to be better about avoiding him in the future. But for one, selfish moment, she stares at him and clings to what could’ve been. What kept her company when she had no one.

 

“Everything changed when we got to the ground.” Bellamy says quietly.

 

Even though she knows it isn’t directed to her, Clarke finds herself saying, “Yeah.”

 

 

***

 

 

When Clarke and Bellamy enter the council tent, there’s already a palpable tension in the room that makes Clarke want to scream. Going from only one other person on the planet to hundreds has been a tough adjustment, but she does what she always does when she feels overwhelmed: she takes a deep breath, counts to three, and the swears like a sailor in her head until the noise of the others drown out.

 

Bellamy seems to notice and he steps a little closer to her, as if to drown out the noise and the ruckus. Clarke hates how grateful she is for it. Octavia glowers at them from across the table, crossing her arms in a way that convinces Clarke that she’s considering having the armed guards put a few bullets in their skull. Clarke remembers the girl with the butterflies and her heart aches.

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Octavia snaps, glaring at everyone in the room, as if demanding them to reveal who tipped the two off.

 

“It’s my mother.” Clarke states calmly, pointedly not looking at Miller and pleased Bellamy is doing the same. “I have a right to be here.”

 

“You have no rights, Clarke. You are not a member of Wonkru.” Octavia states, her words as cold as the Earth when there was no one left.

 

Clarke doesn’t move though. She stands her ground and revels in the fact that no one is actively pointing a gun at her head, so she figures this is a good sign. Indra catches her eye and the woman nods, as if to say she’s covered – safe, even – if only for a moment. Clarke lets out the breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

 

“Did Diyoza say what she wanted to negiotiate?” Bellamy asks, his words strained and pleading as he gazes at his sister.

 

Clarke’s heart goes to him, it really does. Returning home to find that your home has eaten the one thing you built your life around. She remains stony, facing Octavia, but her hands twitch to Bellamy.

 

“Even if she did, like I said, you are not a member of Wonkru.” Octavia says. “You do not get that information.”

 

Bellamy’s jaw twitches, but he doesn’t press further, much to Clarke’s relief. Octavia’s patience for her brother will only go so far.

 

After a few minutes of uncomfortable glaring, a loud noise resounds outside the tent and the fabric shudders in the sudden onset of extreme wind. Clarke turns her head where the flaps are blowing, her eyes flitting toward Bellamy. He catches her gaze and tilts his head ever so slightly, placing one foot in front of hers. She rolls her eyes at him and the corners of his mouth twitch up.

 

“Our guests have arrived.” Octavia states and all Wonkru guards grip their weapons, sending a chill up Clarke’s spine.

 

After what feels like eternity, a few figures throw open the flaps and enter the tent. Diyoza looks around with the unimpressed gaze that Clarke’s beginning to realize is her disinterest in Wonkru, followed by McCreary. Clarke’s skin crawls when she sees him, the ghost of his fingerprints on her skin. She shivers ever so slightly, but not enough for Bellamy not to notice. He moves even further in front of her.

 

Then, she enters.

 

Clarke’s mother steps into the tent with Marcus and Clarke’s heart stops. Somehow, she looks worse than before. There isn’t a collar around her neck, but somehow she seems thinner, like her skin has stretched across her bones so far it might snap. There are deep circles under her eyes and her gaze can barely hold focus for more than a second.

 

“Mom—” Clarke takes a step forward and suddenly multiple guns are aimed at her head.

 

Clarke chokes, freezing in place, feeling the grip of Bellamy on her wrist. Her mother looks at her and then down at her feet. “What did you do to her?” Clarke demands, unable to stop her eyes watering.

 

“We’ve done nothing.” Diyoza states calmly. “She’s done this all to herself.”

 

Clarke opens her mouth to argue – to yell, or scream – but Octavia beats her to it. “So. You say you want a trade.”

 

“Yes. We need a doctor.” Diyoza says. “Abby cannot perform the tasks we need her to, so we need a replacement. Because of her condition, her hands shake too much to perform any sort of surgery needed on my men. She says that there is someone in this camp who could perform the necessary tasks. In return, we’ll provide you with supplies. Food, herbs, some technology that will help you.”

 

Octavia snorts. “Why don’t I just kill you now and we take the valley?”

 

Diyoza is unimpressed. “Because I know you’re not dumb enough to think that I came here without a contingency plan. If I do not return to my ship in thirty minutes, they are blowing this entire city to the ground.”

 

“Your bombs have not met Wonkru.” Octavia growls.

 

“Perhaps not, but I have a feeling the introduction won’t be pleasant.” Diyoza responds. “Now Abby, we made a deal. If you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.”

 

Clarke frowns and she glances at Bellamy, who looks just as confused. “Tell me who can perform the surgery and I’ll give you what you want.” Diyoza repeats.

 

Abby’s wringing her hands and Clarke can tell, even from this distance, that she’s shaking. Clinically, Clarke knows that her mother is in withdrawal – the shaking, the inability to focus, the weight loss – but all she can see is her mother in _pain_. “Yes,” Abby says, her voice squeaking. “Okay.”

 

“No,” Miller breathes and Clarke’s eyes widen. It hits her a few seconds before Bellamy, but he gasps softly. Clarke wonders if she can run out of here and warn Jackson – warn him that her own mother is about to sell him out to Diyoza, is about to sell him—

 

“Clarke.”

 

When Abby says Clarke’s name, Clarke blinks. She doesn’t believe she’s heard it, and so she plays it over and over again. “What?” Bellamy breathes at her side.

 

Tears start to roll down Abby’s cheeks and she’s refusing to look in Clarke’s direction. “Clarke was the medic on the ground when we sent the 100. She has more triage experience in this environment than anyone. And she’s the only one who’s been above ground for the past 6 years, so knows the climate well enough to adjust. She’s the best person available to perform the surgeries.”

 

The words are barely reaching her. Clarke finds that her breath isn’t coming as easily as it was before and someone the tent feels smaller. It’s closing in on her and she reaches out for something – anything – to keep her grounded.

 

She finds Bellamy’s hand and squeezes. Tight.

 

Diyoza fixes Clarke with a pitied stare. She even has a moment when her stony expression falters, her mouth falling open when she surveys mother and daughter. She clears her throat and then turns to Octavia. “So? What will it be? I take Clarke and leave supplies?”

 

Clarke grips Bellamy’s hand so tight, she’s certain it hurts.

 

Except nothing makes sense. The Earth itself seems to be tilting and she’s trying not to fall off of it.

 

Clarke knows the answer before the smile curls on Octavia’s lips. “Clarke for food? Absolutely.”

 

“No.” Bellamy states, shoving Clarke behind him, but refusing to let go of her hand. “Absolutely not.”

 

“Not your decision.” Octavia seethes. “You are either a part of Wonkru or an enemy of Wonkru. Choose.”

 

Bellamy lets out a humorless laugh and every gun is trained on him in seconds. He doesn’t seem to notice because he starts, “Oh, I absolutely can say with certainty—”

 

“Bellamy, no.” Clarke manages to get out, taking one final second before letting go of his hand. She can still feel his fingerprints on her like a tattoo, causing her hand to tingle and scream to fall back. But instead, she steps in front of him. He doesn’t back down, reaching out to her, so she begs, “Please, Bellamy.”

 

His hand hesitates. “Clarke—” He manages and it breaks at the end.

 

“For Madi.” She says, her eyes watering with tears.

 

If he stands up to Octavia, there’s only one way this story ends. And Clarke cannot have it end that way.

 

Clarke steps from behind him, toward Diyoza and her mother. Her vision blurs with tears, but she’s past the point of caring if anyone sees. Marcus stands a few paces behind Abby, his own filled with tears as she moves closer. “M-Mom,” Clarke says, her word catching.

 

All Abby does is drop her gaze.

 

Diyoza frowns at the two, closes her eyes, and reaches into her pocket. “A deal’s a deal.” She states.

 

She hands Abby a pill bottle, the medicine rattling around in the plastic container like thunder in the dead of night, shattering all silence.

 

“Your pills for a name.” Diyoza states. “As promised.”

 

Clarke chokes, watching Abby take the container from Diyoza and clutch it to her chest. She can’t stop the tears from streaming down her face and Clarke can feel it when something inside her snaps.

 

The heart can only break so many times before it is nothing more than stardust.

 

“Get the collar.”

 

Clarke barely hears Diyoza before McCreary’s at her side, the metal collar in hand. She vaguely hears Bellamy shout something behind her, but then there’s a loud noise and he cries out in pain. Clarke whirls to see what happened when McCreary snaps the collar in place and Clarke stills. Her hands instinctively reach up for it. _I wouldn’t do that if I were you_. McCreary’s first words resound in her mind, but she can’t help it.

 

She’s nothing more than a thing now, sold by her own mother.

 

A pitiful noise escapes her mouth, half sob, half squeak, as she grasps the collar around her throat.

 

“Wait—” Abby cries and Clarke thinks she moves toward her. “You promised not to hurt her. You promised—”

 

“You’re her mother.” Diyoza states. “Didn’t you make a similar one?”

 

Abby freezes.

 

Diyoza sighs, shaking her head. She tilts her head at McCreary. “Hit her.”

 

Clarke barely has an opportunity to take her hands from the collar when it blazes to life and she finds herself on the ground. It feels as if every part of her is on fire. She writhes, trying not to scream as it courses through her.

 

Then it stops.

 

She barely registers yelling when the distant words, “Again” are uttered. Her legs move on their own accord, digging into the ground. Someone screaming and crying and it isn’t until the shocking stops that she realizes it’s herself.

 

When it stops, she lies there, unable to force her limbs to move again. Once the white poker of pain and electricity leaves her vision, she finds herself face-to-face with Diyoza, leaning over her. “I’m sorry Clarke, I really am.” She states and for some reason (Clarke blames her weakened state), she believes her. “I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now. But I needed to remind you of what will happen if you disobey us. If you do not take this seriously. Just know that this was only a taste. As long as you are with us and that collar’s around your neck, you are ours.”

 

Clarke wants to shout, wants to spit in her face, but her neck feels as if it’s still on fire. So she doesn’t nothing.

 

Once she trusts her legs, Clarke manages to get back up to her feet, hastily scrubbing tears from her eyes. She stares at her mother, whose face is filled with their own tears, and she can’t help but feel a wave of rage wash over her. Hatred.

 

“One more thing, as a gesture of trust.” Diyoza says to Octavia. “In good faith that no one will come after Clarke,” her gaze flits to Bellamy, who Clarke still can’t bring herself to face. “I will return these to you.”

 

Diyoza tilts her head and three figures stumble inside, hands tied and bags over their heads. McCreary swipes all the bags off and Clarke nearly exclaims. Raven, Murphy, and Emori all blink dazedly, scraped and cut, but _alive_. Clarke sees Raven mouth, _“Clarke.”_ And Clarke can’t help but release another sob.

 

Raven looks to Abby, then Clarke, but when her gaze fixates on the orange bottle in Abby’s hand, her gaze darkens.

 

“Move out.” Diyoza states and she shoves Clarke roughly forward. Abby turns to follow, but Diyoza places a hand up. “No. You and your boyfriend are staying here.”

 

“W-What?” Abby chokes.

 

“I have no use for you and the traitor. I’ll let Octavia do with you as she sees fit. We have your notes and your daughter. We don’t need you.”

 

Abby makes an inhuman noise and Diyoza shoves Clarke forward again. Clarke gazes at Raven, Murphy, and Emori and realizes this is it. Perhaps for real, this time. She panics. “P-Please.” She manages, her voice rough and scratchy. “Can I say goodbye?”

 

Diyoza’s jaw twitches, but she scours the room. With a curt nod, she says, “Five minutes.”

 

Clarke moves to Raven, her hand outstretched, but then jerks back. “Wait, don’t touch me.” Clarke says quickly. There’s a momentarily flash of hurt on Raven’s face, but Clarke is focused on McCreary, whose hand is hovering precariously over the collar control. Diyoza follows Clarke gaze, sighs, snags the controller out of his hands, and smacks him over the head. Once she has it in her possession, she nods.

 

With that one movement, Clarke throws herself at Raven, holding her too tightly to be comfortable. “You’re alive,” Clarke manages, choking on the emotion of it. Raven doesn’t seem to mind because she’s gripping her just as painfully, her entire body shaking.

 

“N-No—” Raven manages, her words muffled in Clarke’s shoulder. “P-Please, there’s gotta be something.”

 

“I’m so glad I got to see you.” Clarke says, her words trembling and her mind even more precarious. “I love you so much, Raven.”

 

That elicits a sob and a tighter hug. “But we just got you back.” Raven’s voice is small – smaller than she’s ever heard it.

 

Clarke tells herself that every moment up until this point has prepared herself for this. She cannot fall apart.

 

It seems almost impossible, but Clarke pulls away and hugs Emori, then steps up to Murphy. He surveys her for a moment, then pulls her shoulders until he nearly wrapped all the way around her. “I missed you so much, Murphy.” Clarke mumbles into his shoulder.

 

“Every fucking day, Clarke.” He responds and Clarke steels herself again.

 

When she pulls away, she takes a breath. Every fiber of her being tells her that turning around will break her. Will break her resolve.

 

But so will not turning around.

 

So instead she faces him, faces _Bellamy_ , who has a cut on his cheek and has been forced on his knees with guns so close to his head, she’s certain he can feel the metal on them. She glowers at the guards around him, dropping to her knees to meet him. There are tears streaming down his cheeks and she realizes someone must let go of his arms because suddenly his hands are one either side of her face. “Clarke—” He barely manages to get the one word out.

 

There are worlds in that word. Worlds that Clarke wishes were real. Worlds that have happier endings, easier choices, and freedom. Worlds Clarke will never experience.

 

His hands are shaking. Clarke tries to think of something to say – anything. But just like the day before the world ended, words escape her. It’s like she’s gazing at him in the suit, ready to sprint to the speaker tower all over again.

 

Then, she breaks.

 

Because, in reality, Bellamy was always her safe space. The one she could cry, she could let her guard down with.

 

She feels his hands drag her closer into his chest and she can do nothing more than weep.

 

Clarke thinks he joins her.

 

“Alright, it’s time.”

 

Clarke barely hears Diyoza and she whips her head up, panicked. “Bellamy,” she barely gets out and he’s matching her panic. He moves closer to her, but then they have his arms again and he’s struggling in their grasp. Clarke wraps her arms around his neck, noticing out of the corner of her eye, Diyoza’s hand hovering over the controller.

 

As quick as she can, she pleads urgently, “Whatever you do, please don’t them get Madi.”

 

Clarke barely has enough time to separate herself from Bellamy before Diyoza flips the switch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, guys. I am so overwhelmed. I never anticipated the response this would get – I’m incredibly grateful for all the kind words and the reads and kudos. To be honest, I was thinking I’d update this weekend, but after last night, I genuinely wanted to put something out for you guys today.
> 
> So here’s Chapter 2 – get ready for Bellamy. <3

CHAPTER TWO

_Bellamy_

 

There’s no noise.

 

Except there _has_ to be noise because he can see shouting, he can see people’s lips moving, but for some reason, there’s no noise. Bellamy can barely feel his arms wrenched behind his back and he can only stare head where the tent flaps are still waving precariously in the wind.

 

All he can do is stare.

 

Because there’s a part of his brain that surely isn’t connecting. He didn’t experience what just happened. Clarke didn’t just leave with Diyoza, Octavia didn’t just barter her life away, and her mother definitely didn’t just sell her for pills. And now he can’t hear. Obviously something is going on with his brain and he has to regroup.

 

Except, he can still feel her on his fingers.

 

She gripped him so _hard_ , he believed that his hand might fall off, but it didn’t seem like enough. He needed her to be there, to hold him tighter, remind him again that she’s here – she’s _Clarke_ – and she’s _alive_.

 

All there is, is a painful white noise and a tent that seems too big and too small at the same time.

 

His arms drops at his sides and he vaguely realizes that the guards have let him go, but he can’t seem to stand up. His gaze catches Raven’s and he tells himself that he can fall apart later, he can have a moment _later_ , but right now there’s so many more important things going on than his own desperation. Clambering to his feet, Bellamy rushes over to Raven, Emori, and Murphy, his hands ghosting up their sides. He catches glimpse of the angry burns that enflame their necks and he resists the flash of anger he feels.

 

If space taught him one thing, it’s that acting strictly on emotion is a way to hurt people. When they had distance from Earth, distance from the Ark, Bellamy was finally able to think. He was able to quiet his heart from screaming commands at him, demanding that he act as soon as possible, and take a breath.

 

As it turns out, Bellamy is usually only one breath away from feeling better.

 

Except this time, he takes a breath and the only thing he receives are tears. They well in his eyes and he considers scrubbing them away, but what’s the point. Raven’s clinging to his shoulder, matching him, her hands shaking. “A-Are you alright?” He manages to croak out, his voice rusty as if he hasn’t used it in days.

 

Raven nods her head a few frantic times, but then her lower lip trembles and it turns into a ‘no.’ Bellamy understand. No, they weren’t alright. Not anymore. “She was here.” Raven says, almost in awe.

 

He understands the feeling. And he got several days with her, relearning her voice and waking up to her handing him rations for the day. He got her next to him again and again, convincing him that she wasn’t an apparition. Raven only got a moment. A moment that was too short and swiped away from her before she could even realize what had happened.

 

“Did she trade herself for us?” Murphy walks up, rubbing his neck a few times. Emori smacks his hand down, muttering something about making it worse, and he sighs.

 

“No,” Bellamy says, the word empty and haunted. He turns his attention to Octavia, breathing again and again, wishing he’d be able to reach some sort of calm that never comes. She’s observing him, her hand on the hilt of her sword as if she’s ready to cut him to pieces as if she hadn’t just done that very thing. Indra’s casting concerned looks between the two, her own eyes revealing a horror that he knows she she’ll stifle in a few seconds. “How could you?” He asks.

 

The buzzing that had overtaken his ears stops. All the guards shift to face them, hands over their guns. Bellamy can’t even register what’s going on, all he knows is that it feels exactly like six years ago, except this time his sister left her. He never knew Blakes would be fatal to Griffins. If he had, perhaps he wouldn’t have stayed around her so much.

 

He would take the pain of absence over the pain of death.

 

“It’s what needed to be done.” Octavia states, her words cold.

 

Bellamy’s having a hard time even making sense of the words, let alone understanding them. “You gave her away. As if she was nothing.”

 

“Actually that was her own mother.” Octavia says. “Clarke was not part of Wonkru. Therefore there is no loss.”

 

It doesn’t help that Raven and Murphy haven’t been around Octavia to understand the gravity of her shift over the past six years, because Raven’s swearing goes off in a fashion Bellamy has only seen reserved for pieces of equipment older than he is. On cue, several guns click and are pointed in their direction, half of Spacekru surrounded by machinery and death. Bellamy puts his hands up instinctually and thankfully Raven stops swearing.

 

Murphy huffs a laugh at his side, whispering gently, “What the fuck?”

 

Bellamy’s inclined to agree.

 

“Do you have no regard for life anymore, O?” He asks. He implores. With everything he has, with every shared meal they spent, every story he told, every piggy back ride he gave, he presses that into his words, begging for his sister to return to them. The guns and the guards fade away, and it’s only him and his sister.

 

And for a moment, he sees her. Past the makeup and the steely exterior, her eyes widen and he sees the first girl from space who stepped onto Earth. He sees the girl who rolled her eyes at him when he demanded she not date, the girl who excitedly told him about the butterfly fields near came. He sees the woman who threw herself on him when he broke into the bunker.

 

Then she’s gone.

 

Made of fire and metal, Octavia tilts her head up. “There’s no life if there’s no Wonkru.”

 

The absurdity of her cult is mind-boggling, just as much as Miller’s gun aimed at him. Something inside of him breaks, as it did when he saw Clarke’s face fall and crumble, knowing the people she trusted most traded her away. That brings his rage back – the fire he stamped down for six years. The fire he thought burned out from his distance from the war and pain of Earth. “What if Abby sold out Jackson, huh?” Bellamy shouts at Miller, unable to control himself. “What if she told Diyoza that Jackson was the best for the job and put him in a collar?”

 

Miller’s gun shakes. Bellamy knows it’s a cheap shot, but he’s done stupider things on Earth, so he may as well keep the trend going.

 

“If it was Jackson, Miller would’ve let him go.” Octavia states.

 

Bellamy can see the temptation for Miller to look at her incredulously, so he does it for him. Octavia’s expression doesn’t change. “If you are not a part of Wonkru, you are an enemy of Wonkru.” Octavia rumbles, the words low and threatening. “And if we have to sacrifice one to save Wonkru, I will make that choice every time.”

 

“Lincoln would be ashamed of you.” Raven spits out, her eyes filled with rage.

 

For the first time, there’s a flash of genuine emotion on Octavia’s face. Anger, hurt, pain. It’s quick enough to barely miss it. A few guards step closer to her, waiting on Octavia’s call, but Bellamy puts his hands closer to her. “Easy,” he says softly.

 

Raven doesn’t do easy. Raven’s built of the machines she’s fixed, her brain is filled with code, and the fire of her passion bleeds into her relationships like a tidal wave of flames to consume whomever dares to hurt the people she loves. And God, Bellamy loves her for it.

 

But, that may be the thing that gets her killed.

 

“Our business is done.” Octavia says darkly. “Miller, inventory the supplies they left behind.”

 

Miller’s hands are still shaking, his gun still pointed at Bellamy. He hesitates a second too long and Octavia opens her mouth, but he rushes from the tent before she can chastise him. Murphy tilts an eyebrow in Bellamy’s direction.

 

“Come on,” Bellamy says, placing his hands on their backs and leading them out of the tent. “There’s nothing for us here.”

 

When the blazing sun hits his face, Bellamy has to close his eyes. They sting with the whispers of tears that have fell, demanding their presence be known.

 

He can still feel her.

 

He can feel her everywhere on him. He can feel her desperate hands clinging to him, quaking with fear. It stays with him and he knows it’ll continue to stay, like a ghost that will never leave.

 

“Bellamy, wait.”

 

Bellamy freezes at the voice, his hands shaking. At his side, Raven stills, her glare trained on someone that really could only be one person. He takes another breath before turning around.

 

Abby wrings her hands, the pill container vanished from sight. “Bellamy, please.” She pleads and he isn’t sure exactly what she’s asking him.

 

“What.” It takes all his self-control for the word to come out smooth, but it still wavers at the end like a lake that’s been disturbed by the flick of a fish.

 

Abby doesn’t answer right away. Tears are streaming down her face and her entire body is trembling. Marcus isn’t far behind her, his gaze cast to the ground. At least he has the decency to look repulsed, Bellamy can’t help but think. “I-I never wanted this to happen.”

 

Raven’s hands clench into fists, but Bellamy can barely give the energy to stop her from doing anything violent. “You…” he has to stop, his words are too loud, too emotional, too full of _hurt_. “You never wanted this to happen?”

 

It’s a low, dangerous question. It’s a question that could start wars, it’s a question that is only spoken in the dead of night, when only demons come out to play.

 

Bellamy closes his eyes because he can’t stand the sight of the woman. The woman Clarke spent days lamenting over, worrying over. _“You sold your own daughter away!”_

 

He doesn’t mean to shout, but it bursts from him, exploding from someplace within he can’t hide anymore. Emori gasps behind him and he holds onto the noise – the _disgust_ – to ground him, if for only a moment.

 

“Bellamy you don’t understand—”

 

“Don’t understand?” He repeats, venom coating every syllable. “No, I think I understand it completely.” He turns around, unable to have this conversation anymore. His hands are shaking and he can sense Raven ready to pounce at his side. “Come on, let’s get you guys cleaned up. Clarke had limited supplies in the rover.”

 

“Bellamy—”

 

“Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it from me.” Bellamy seethes. He whips his head in her direction, his eyes narrowing. “You want forgiveness? You are _not_ forgiven.”

 

With that, he places his hand on the small of Raven’s back and leads her away, just as her mouth opens and a stream of incoherent rage pours out. He takes them to the corners of Polis where the rover is parked.

 

“Bellamy, wait!”

 

Bellamy has to physically restrain himself from whirling around to scream at Abby, but is startled to see Marcus jogging up to him. Bellamy clenches his jaw. “What.”

 

“I want to give you this.” Marcus states, handing Bellamy a book.

 

Curiosity gets the better of him and he takes it from Marcus, opening the first page.

 

Then he can’t breathe again.

 

Lines and sketches are smeared across the pages. Bellamy flips through them, seeing the flash of Octavia’s smile, the roll of Raven’s eyes.

 

Then, him.

 

Page after page, he finds himself staring at his own face, often screwed up in a surly laugh. “What is this?” He chokes out, unable to tear his gaze away from the pages.

 

“I grabbed it from Clarke’s house in the valley.” Marcus states. “I thought you should be the one to keep it. It also has great information – maps, explanation of plants, everything you’d think Clarke cared about is in there.”

 

Bellamy stares at his face.

 

“I’m so sorry, Bellamy. Somewhere along the way, I think we all forgot where the line was.”

 

That gets Bellamy to tear his gaze away. “The line?” He asks.

 

“The line that we cross, never to find our humanity again.” Marcus says softly. “I know you don’t understand Abby or why she did what she did. And neither do I. But—”

 

“I swear to god, Marcus, if you tell me that we do what we need to survive, I’m gonna—”

 

“No, I wasn’t going to say that.” Marcus replied. “It’s nothing but an adage we tell ourselves to justify the horrible things we do.”

 

Bellamy’s frustration leaks and he sighs. “Then what?”

 

“I was going to say, we need each other to remind ourselves that the line exists.” Marcus states, clapping Bellamy’s shoulder. “Don’t let go of the people who remind you of that line, Bellamy.”

 

His eyes bore into him to the point where Bellamy is uncomfortable, as if Marcus knows all his secrets in one conversation. Marcus’ eyes flit back to Abby, who is crumbling before them. “You too,” Bellamy says and truly means it.

 

Marcus nods, allowing the others to continue on.

 

They reach the rover quickly, and Monty has the hood open, pointing to various parts of the engine to Madi. She looks mildly interested at best, Harper and Echo laughing as she provides commentary to Monty’s teaching. Madi looks so free and careless in that moment, the way a twelve-year-old should.

 

His chest aches. He sees so much of Clarke in her, it hurts. Not in appearance, but in the way she moves, the way she tilts her chin up when she knows she’s won an argument. The way her eyes fixate at the task at hand when she’s wildly interested. She walks and talks like a billboard that says _Clarke was here_ and he pauses because it’s almost too painful to consider telling her.

 

“Bellamy,” Raven states, her expression finally softening as they look at the young night blood laughing with their family.

 

“Raven, how am I going to—” He cuts off, not even able to finish the sentence. “Clarke is all she had.”

 

Raven reaches out and grabs his wrist, squeezing. “She has us now, too.”

 

Bellamy shakes his head. “Clarke is that girl’s world. How am I going to tell her I couldn’t protect her. I _promised_ , Raven. I promised nothing bad would happen to Clarke.”

 

“You can’t take the weight of the world, Atlas.” Raven comments quietly. “Sometimes, you need to shrug.”

 

Wiping his hand down his face, Bellamy chuckles, “I knew I never should’ve told you any of that.”

 

“Told us?” Murphy repeats from behind. “I made a drinking game for whenever you started a history rant. One night, I straight up almost died.”

 

Bellamy laughs in spite of himself and it loosens the knot in his stomach ever so slightly. Enough so he can at least breathe.

 

Raven wraps an arm around him. “Right now, Clarke needs you to be here for her.”

 

Bellamy catches the gaze of his closest confidant. “You with me?” He asks, his voice huskier than he’d ever admit.

 

“Always.”

 

There’s no hesitation, just like there never is. That’s enough for him to steel his resolve and begin his march over.

 

“Bellamy!” Madi cries out, jumping off the hood of the car where she blatantly was not paying attention to Monty. Monty throws his hands up in the air as if he’s mortally offended, Harper laughing at him before leaning in to steal a kiss.

 

When Madi reaches him, her eyes fall upon Raven and she straight up launches herself at her. “Raven!” Madi exclaims, wrapping her hands around Raven’s neck. It’d make Bellamy laugh if he didn’t have to have this conversation with her, watching Raven freeze and then melt in the twelve-year-old’s arms. “You’re here! Can you teach me how to build a rocket? Clarke said that you’ve fixed two that never should’ve made it off the ground.”

 

Monty, Echo, and Harper jog over and laugh at the exchange. “Clarke told her stuff about us,” Monty fills in and Harper reaches out to nudge Madi’s shoulder.

 

The humor is lost on Echo. Instead, she’s peering curiously at Bellamy and he knows he’s screwed. Her eyes narrow, as if she’s trying to figure out whatever puzzle they’ve brought with them, years of training rushing back in an instant.

 

“Where’s Clarke?” Madi asks, searching behind Murphy and Emori.

 

Murphy frowns. “What, no hug for me?”

 

Madi shrugs. “Why would I hug you?”

 

“Because I am the cool uncle, obviously!”

 

“Clarke never called you ‘cool.’” Madi snorts, but she still searches. “Bellamy,” she focuses her attention on him. “Where’s Clarke?”

 

Bellamy squeezes his eyes shut and run his hand through his hair out of habit. “Madi, can we speak privately for a second.”

 

“No.” She snaps instantly. Her chin is trembling and her voice wavers, but she stands her ground. “Where. Is. Clarke.”

 

Raven squeezes his shoulder.

 

“Clarke’s… gone.” Is all he manages to get out.

 

“Gone?” Monty repeats, surprised.

 

“No,” Madi says shaking her head. “No, Clarke wouldn’t leave without me. She’s not gone, she’s just mad at you for not – she just left _you_ , she didn’t leave _me._ ”

 

Bellamy uses every moment from the ground to fortify himself for this moment. “Madi, she didn’t leave willingly.” He states, trying not to focus on the tears forming in the girl’s eyes. “Her mother and Octavia sold her out to Diyoza. She’s with them.”

 

 _“What?”_ Monty exclaims, eyes widening. Harper places a hand over her mouth and even Echo looks appalled, the seasoned warrior dropping her cool.

 

Madi takes a moment. Her hands turn into fists and she closes her eyes, a few tears escaping. “Okay,” she manages after taking a few shaky breaths. “If we use the rover, we can be in Shadow Valley by nightfall.”

 

She whirls around to leave, Bellamy grabbing her arm. “Madi, no.” He says and Madi rips her arm out of her grasp.

 

“No?” Madi hisses. “We’re going to get Clarke.”

 

“Madi—” Echo warns. _“Ste kefa.”_

 

 _“Shof op.”_ Madi snaps back. “We are going to get Clarke.”

 

“We can’t this time, Madi.” Bellamy says, impressed he’s able to keep his voice as still as it is. “Diyoza has her in the collar. They have total control. If we go there, they could hurt her.”

 

“They can hurt her anyways!” Madi shouts, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You’re supposed to be the brave one! You’re supposed to be the one who—” Madi chokes on the words for a moment, her chest heaving. “All of you are liars!” She sobs, taking a step back from the group. “You said that you love her, but you left her on the earth to die!”

 

Everyone takes a breath. Bellamy tries not to be hurt by the words of a panicked teenager, but it breaks him nonetheless. Cracks in his resolve spider up his spine and he no longer is calm. “Madi,” he whispers, but Madi’s shaking her head, sobs squeaking from her throat like a prayer for help.

 

“She thought you loved her, but you don’t.” She says, her voice wavering and catching. “None of you do. You just wait for her to do what you don’t want her and then you leave her. You don’t love her at all. You all are liars.”

 

“Madi, we have to think about what’s best for Clarke—” Raven tries, but Madi shoots her with a glare that shuts even Raven up.

 

“How is any of this what’s best for Clarke?” Madi cries, continuing to take steps back. “I-I listened to my parents die during Praimfaya. I was all alone for months before Clarke came along. She’s my family.” Her face cracks and everything is breaking.

 

It’s not beautiful to watch her break.

 

“She loved all of you so much and you are all liars!” She squeaks and turns to run.

 

Bellamy moves to follow her, but watches as she swings the back door of the rover open and climbs in. Bellamy shudders at the resounding noise of the slam.

 

No one says anything for a few moments.

 

“Let her cool off.” Echo is the one to break the silence and Bellamy is eternally grateful for that. “She thinks we’re abandoning Clarke, she’s not going to listen to anything any of us have to say right now.”

 

Bellamy knows she’s right but he resists the urge to go and tell Madi why it’s a bad idea.

 

 _She loved all of you so much_.

 

He replays the words over and over in his head, like an echo in the valley that never leaves him. “Are we?” Murphy asks him, folding his arms. “Are we abandoning her?”

 

Bellamy turns to him, his hands clutching the sketchbook Marcus gave him.

 

“No.”

 

With a nod to his right, Raven’s mouth quirks up. “Just another day on the ground.” She mutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> I will say, I really wanted a call back to S1 & S2 “If you need forgiveness, here it is: you’re forgiven.” But in a completely angry, opposite way.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed it and if you have a moment, let me know what you think! Much love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know this is super soon, but I do have reasons: 1) because I’m so grateful for the response, I wanted to give you the next part as soon as possible and 2) because we are getting a new episode next week and I want to get into the plot a little deeper before it airs, so it doesn’t sidetrack me. 
> 
> Also, I’m going to adjust the tags too, but while this fic will NOT contain sexual assault / rape, there are some boundary pushing that are a clear power play going on. I wanted to put that in the note, just in case anyone is triggered by any sort of unwanted advance.
> 
> We’re back in Clarke’s perspective, arriving in Eden with Diyoza & co. Let’s do this!

CHAPTER 3

_Clarke_

 

Eden fell.

 

Clarke steps out of the ship and into the valley she’d desperately yearned for and pauses. Eden no longer was their home and the evidence is splattered all over the earth. Broken glass litters the ground, garbage is tossed haphazardly aside, and several fires rage around the pits, creating dark smoke that threatens to burn the tips of the trees. She can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips when she sees the home she created with Madi destroyed, the small tokens and touches they’d spent years creating to make the only survivable part of Earth _home_ , but now home was in pieces.

 

It hurts in an unexpected way, like a sharp blade of glass in her lungs. Diyoza turns when she doesn’t follow, her hand on the controller precariously. But when she sees Clarke’s expression, something softens. “Respect for the Earth has to be relearned.” She says, her followers trampling the grass and snapping the branches. “Gentleness is not a commodity we have in space.”

 

Clarke wants to yell, wants to inherently disagree with that. She _lived_ in space and she remembers the tree they kept in the common grounds, feeding it drops of water while whispering soft prayers for safe return. Except Diyoza has her life literally in her hands, so she says nothing, tries to _feel_ _nothing._

 

Clarke isn’t sure how she’ll survive if she feels.

 

Because that’s the issue, isn’t it? Clarke tries to push the thoughts from her mind as she walks through the camp with her head high, trying to ignore the hungry looks she’s receiving from those around her. They stop what they’re doing to stare and she tells herself her skin isn’t crawling and her heart isn’t breaking.

 

(It is.)

 

The issue is Clarke _feels_ too much, she’s always felt too much. She tried so strongly to use her head always – make the tough calls, light herself on fire to keep her people warm.

 

Except even fires go out after a while. All she had left was ashes and dust, blowing away in the wind.

 

“In here.” Diyoza orders, opening the door to a cabin that Clarke recognizes. She doesn’t want to know how they’ve destroyed it inside.

 

Except when she enters, it’s not nearly as bad as she thought. Abby’s equipment is strewn around the room, scattered among hers and Madi’s drawings. Files of medical reports are open and notes are scribbled on scratches of Clarke’s sketchpads. Clarke’s chin trembles. She makes her way over to Madi’s bed, mussed and unmade. She wonders if someone messed it up or if it remains from the last peaceful night they spent together. She can’t even remember it. It must’ve been ordinary, one day amidst so many, where the two woke to be the only people inhabiting the world. Her hand trembles as she reaches out and touches the blankets, cold and unused.

 

“Abby’s notes are on the table. Familiarize yourself with them so we can start first thing in the morning.” Diyoza states. “I’ll bring your first patient in at dawn. Someone will be by to provide rations in the evening. I suggest you spend what daylight you have studying.”

 

Clarke can’t bring herself to match her gaze, but instead lifts a few of the drawings off the bed. They’re filled with scratches and erase marks and Clarke smiles, remembering the day Madi tried so hard to copy her drawing of Octavia. Clarke thinks of how she offered casual advice, but Madi never wanted to be told what to do. So she only offered advice when Madi seemed close to throwing her pencil down, smirking to herself when she would sneakily try whatever she suggested.

 

A tear falls on the page and Clarke holds her hand to her face. She hadn’t realized she was crying, but the moisture smears with the charcoal and she touches it, smearing the lines on the page.

 

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

 

When Diyoza speaks, Clarke can’t help but face her, not caring enough to wipe the tears away. The woman’s looking at her in a strange way. Not with pity or condescension, but with something deeper, more genuine, something that makes Clarke furious.

 

“I know what you must be thinking.” Diyoza continues. “We stole your home, then your mother, and then you. I’m not going to convince you that we haven’t don’t despicable things to you since we arrived. But I do not enjoy destroying people. I fought against everything I ever stood for because they were destroying people with no consequence or conscience. I understand your anger.”

 

Clarke purses her lips. She does everything in her power to keep her expression neutral, stern even, but a part of her that was so deprived of humanity can’t help but break.

 

“But my people come first.” Diyoza states. “I’m sorry you’re a casualty of that, but my people must always come first.”

 

If she wanted a reaction from Clarke, she doesn’t wait for it. Diyoza leaves, closing the door gently behind her. Clarke can hear the command, “I want round the clock guards on this door until further notice. A schedule will be posted tonight. McCreary, you’re on the first shift.”

 

The noise of those outside is haunting and boisterous at the same time. Clarke sits on Madi’s bed, barely able to hear the groan of her weight like Madi use to make fun of her for. She holds up the drawing of Madi as a child, the first one she ever made, her hair as wild as she was.

 

She can’t help the sob that escapes her lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispers to the picture, wishing that Madi could hear her now, knowing she would be terrified, furious even. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Madi wouldn’t hear it though. She wouldn’t feel it. She might even try to come after her, but Clarke has to believe that Bellamy will keep his promise.

 

He always did.

 

She picks up one of the drawings next to Madi, face-to-face with Bellamy. He’s younger, with no facial hair, but the eyes remain just as what she clung to only hours before. He’d always had such telling eyes, unable to mask whatever emotion he felt at the time. Even when he was stony and distant with her, they still radiated pain, as if always connecting the two of them.

 

Now that’s gone.

 

There’s no space ship, there’s no home, and for some reason the most devastating, there’s no radio.

 

There’s no one.

 

Clarke lets out a noise and has to place the drawing upside down, unable to look at it any longer. Unable to see _him_ any longer when not able to touch him as well. Perhaps it would’ve been easier if he’d changed. If he had become a different person while in space, or he had forgotten her as if she really left the earth.

 

The moment she saw him, she knew he was the same. A little older, a little softer, but _Bellamy_ to his core.

 

Perhaps that was the most heartbreaking reveal of them all.

 

He burrowed into her heart, taking up space without permission. When he was gone, it was just… empty. But having Bellamy next to her, but not being able to have him in every way she thought about with her time on earth was somehow worse. When he came back, he took her heart with him and left her in the ruins of Polis.

 

Clarke lived among those ruins too long to ever pretend it’s survivable.

 

Because Clarke knows Bellamy loved her on the ground. Perhaps not in a romantic way, perhaps not like he was consumed with it, but they loved each other as much as any two people could. They fought together, fought each other, and crumbled together. They fought, they lived, they loved. And that was the problem.

 

It is a beautiful disaster to be the one who loved more.

 

“Clarke?”

 

Clarke’s head whips up when she hears her name, startled when someone walks in. He tentatively closes the door, his hand on the doorknob as if he’s prepared to run away if she so much as moves. Clarke recognizes him from her interrogation – Shaw – who gave her water and pleaded for them not to hurt her. Though on her guard, she’s thrown by the softness in his eyes as he approaches now.

 

“I heard you were back in camp.” He says, his words filled with guilt.

 

When she doesn’t answer, he takes a few tentative steps forward. “I know you don’t owe me anything.” He starts, his hands up as if to surrender. “But… but the crew didn’t come back with the prisoners.”

 

“What?” Clarke is too startled to keep herself from remaining stoic.

 

“Raven, she was caught on board the spaceship. She didn’t come back with everyone. Is she…?” He coughs. “And Murphy and Emori. Are they okay?”

 

Clarke’s eyes narrow. “It was you.” She says, scrutinizing him. She tries to find anything that would give him away, anything that might suggest he’s lying, but comes up bare. “Monty said when he radioed, we had someone friendly on board the ship. Someone who gave us extra time so we could escape.”

 

Shaw blinks, startled, but slowly nods.

 

Clarke thinks back of the night in the desert, surrounded by glass and parasites, sneaking a glance at Bellamy and wondering if this will finally be it. Will this be the disaster that takes them down? By luck, or fate, they managed out again.

 

Together.

 

Before she can overthink it, Clarke moves over to where Shaw is quickly. He recoils at her speed, but stiffens when she wraps her arms around him. It’s almost comical that he doesn’t reciprocate in any way, his arms pinned at their sides like she’s attacked him, but she doesn’t care. She spent years with no one and simply touching another human is exhilarating. Feeling their warmth when the earth was so, very cold.

 

“Thank you,” she says, clutching his shoulders.

 

“Uh, no problem.” Shaw states, awkwardly patting her shoulder. Clarke breaks off the hug and smiles. He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s just literally no one has shown me affection in over 100 years. I kinda forgot what to do. If you were a bike, I think I’d be more understanding.”

 

Clarke thinks in another timeline, she would’ve liked Shaw. Because honestly? She’s captive with a bunch of murderers and she’s pretty sure she likes him now.

 

“Worried about Raven?” Clarke asks, genuinely glad to have something else to focus on at the moment.

 

When he ducks his head and coughs again, Clarke grins. “I, uh, mean, she locked me out of code. That I wrote.”

 

“She really is something else.” Clarke muses. “I recommend not going head to head with her again. You won’t win.”

 

He snorts. “I’m not one to make the same mistake twice, trust me.”

 

She gives the two of them some distance, approaching the table where all the medical files are. Clarke picks on up, sighing. “I heard your mom gave you up.” Shaw says, not joining her. “The guys were talking about it outside. I, uh, I’m sorry. My mom left when I was eight. That’s something no one really can understand.”

 

“She didn’t leave.” Clarke states. “She decided I wasn’t important anymore.”

 

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

 

Clarke looks at him, really _looks_ at him, and marvels how young he is. “Raven’s okay.” She chooses instead, unable to think about her mother. “So is Murphy and Emori.” She says with a chuckle. “Diyoza returned them when my mom gave me up. So,” Clarke sighs, running her hands down the charts. “If it means they get to survive, it’s okay.”

 

“It’s not okay.”

 

Clarke closes her eyes. “We don’t have the luxury of not being okay on the ground.” Clarke responds. “I should probably study.” She states, gesturing at the mound of medical work in front of her.

 

“Yeah,” Shaw responds. He turns to leave, his hand on the doorknob. “Clarke?” He says. “You still have someone friendly on the inside.”

 

The corners of her mouth turn up and she nods.

 

He opens the door, letting in the raging noise and violence, only to lock it away once more.

 

***

 

“Morning, sunshine.”

 

Clarke’s sleep had been restless, filled with the end of the world and Madi’s haunting eyes. She filled her time with going over the files again and again, trying to wrap her head around them. There was one glaring fact that she couldn’t overlook:

 

Her mom was wrong.

 

This was cancer and it is way over her expertise. Sure, she learned to stitch people with nothing more than a sharp piece of metal and some twine, but this was years of bodies attacking themselves. She poured over the documents, the notes of the appointments, and the more she read, the more she shook. The miners all had the same symptoms, but they were all heighten by the fact that these were mass murdering criminals. One miner in particular – Vincent – had an entire page listed with ‘Triggers,’ which her mother wrote in detail all the ways she touched him and he turned violent.

 

So when someone opens her door without so much as knocking, Clarke leaps backwards. Diyoza and McCreary walk through the door, the controller in Diyoza’s possession. It’s the only reason Clarke relatively calms. “First appointment. I trust you’ve ready all of Abby’s notes?” Diyoza asks.

 

Clarke nods, not taking her gaze from McCreary.

 

“Alright. I’ll be back with the next patient in thirty.”

 

“Back?” Clarke asks, trying not to reveal too much of the horror when she hands McCreary the controller.

 

Diyoza’s unamused. “As much as I’d like to watch you poke and prod McCreary—”

 

“I bet you do.” McCreary drawls with a wink.

 

“—I have a camp to run. Try and play nice, if you can.”

 

She leaves before Clarke can so much as process her sentence.

 

“Time for my checkup, sunshine?”

 

The words make Clarke’s skin crawl, but she flips open his file nonetheless. His eyes are focused on her and it feels like her skin’s on fire. She takes a breath and says, “So it says here that my mother was in the process of injecting antibodies into your system in order to see if it slows down the growth?” Clarke asks, somewhat proud of how calm her words are.

 

McCreary moves towards her, placing his hand over hers as she tries to flip through his file. “You know, I never expected someone would be able to survive the end of the world.” He says, his words dripping like venom and sugar, the concoction sending shivers down her spine. “Especially one as pretty as you.”

 

Clarke rips her hand away and moves to the table where Abby spread out her vials, her fingers flitting along the names. “Why don’t I check your heartrate and blood pressure, and then we can move forward with the treatment?” She asks, grabbing a few tools from a stand next to the x-ray screen.

 

When she moves to place her fingers on his throat, Clarke freezes when he grabs her wrist. “I was glad it was you who was traded.” He says.

 

She wrenches her wrist out of his hand. “Do not touch me.”

 

McCreary frowns. He reaches for the controller at his side. “That wasn’t very nice.”

 

He flips the switch.

 

In an instant, the world is on fire. Clarke’s mind melts in a whirlpool of pain and she feels her hands seize up at her sides.

 

Then it’s gone.

 

Wheezing, she reaches for her head where there’s a sharp pain, her hands coming back black with blood. “Say please.” McCreary says.

 

Clarke glowers at him.

 

He clicks his tongue, flipping the switch once more. Except this time, he leaves it on longer and by the Clarke realizes her limbs have stopped flailing, her face is filled with tears and the muscles in her legs are twitching on their own. McCreary bends down so his breath is hot on her face. “Say. Please.”

 

Clarke considers this. She considers saying it. But she catches sight of a drawing of Madi in the corner of the room and instead spits out, “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

 

He keeps it long enough for her to see stars.

 

These aren’t the stars she gazed at for years, these are the stars that are made of broken dreams and the end of the world.

 

By the time he stops, she’s sobbing and every part of her body feels like it’s covered in needles. McCreary’s close enough to her where she can feel his fingers on her shoulder, running down her side as if she’s _his_. She tries to growl, to become the commander of death, but her limbs _won’t move_ and she’s left with a pitiful whimper that comes out of her throat.

 

Vaguely she’s aware of someone pounding on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Someone calls.

 

McCreary’s hands linger on her for a moment longer, but he stands. “Yeah, the new chick is clumsy.” With that, he yanks her to her feet and she folds onto the table for support, coughing and spluttering when she realizes that she needs to breathe. He slaps her back a few times, which must mean someone’s actually _in_ the room now, each pound sending jolts of pain up her spine. “We were just taking my heart rate.”

 

He lifts an eyebrow, as if challenging her to say otherwise, hopping on the table as if nothing happened. The person doesn’t leave, though. He’s mousy, unassuming fellow, clutching a gun that seems far too large for him, his eyes darting around. “Diyoza’s on her rounds on the east side of the valley. No one will hear us.”

 

McCreary nods, turning to Clarke. “Well, aren’t you going to start?”

 

She presses her fingers against his throat and tries to focus enough to count.

 

The newcomer tilts his chin at Clarke. “What about her?”

 

“She won’t tell.” McCreary smirks. He lifts a hand and runs it down her hair and she twitches to try and get him off her. “Because she knows what will happen if she does.” He lifts his hand to the controller again and she can’t help but flinch. He sees it. His eyes light up and he smiles at her, daring her to say a word.

 

She’s silent.

 

“Besides, if Diyoza’s in the east, she’ll be back soon. I need an update now, or we’ll lose our window.”

 

The man nods. “We’re all set with the second round of missiles. Diyoza is going back to the other camp to negotiate trade with their farmers to help us sustain crops. The tent you were in last time will be unguarded from the sky. We can attack then. Everything will be ready in three days. We can take out the head of the insane bunker cult and Diyoza at the same time.”

 

Clarke’s hands drop. “What?” She asks before she can stop herself.

 

McCreary faces her, his expression darkening to something murderous. “You’re not going to say anything, are you sunshine? Because this doesn’t involve you, or your weird feral child. As long as she stays out of the way, she’ll be fine.”

 

Except, for the first time in six years, Clarke isn’t worried about only Madi. She’s worried about everyone else in that tent, everyone else who goes to council meetings. Indra, Miller, Kane, Octavia…

 

_Bellamy._

 

“No,” Clarke breathes. “No!”

 

She takes off for the door without really thinking about it and is rewarded with exactly what she should’ve expected. Her feet fly from underneath her and her head smack against the ground. “I said, you won’t say a word, won’t you?”

 

She can barely hear McCreary’s voice over her own screams. Something rolls down her shoulders and once the shocks stops, she realizes it’s black blood. Scrambling to her knees, Clarke heaves, knowing if she’d had anything to eat that day, it would be gone.

 

The newcomer steps near her. “We need to kill her.”

 

McCreary smiles. “No, we can’t do that. We need her. She’s the only thing that can keep us alive right now.” He states. “All we need to do is _tighten_ her lips.”

 

Clarke manages to get to her feet, backing up from them until she hits the wall. She presses her shoulders back further, wishing she could melt and disappear. McCreary and the man step closer to her. “Hold her down.” McCreary demands.

 

Before she can do anything, the man grabs her shoulders and wrestles her to the ground. Clarke’s mortified by how weak her attempted to fend him off are. She thrashes, but it barely registers as McCreary looms over her, his hands working quickly on the collar around her neck.

 

Clarke makes a noise so that someone, _anyone_ , could come in. But just like the radio for the past six years,

 

No one answers.

 

The collar tightens, pressing hard against her throat. Suddenly, her shouts are nothing more than squeaks and her breath always seems slightly out of reach. She tried again and again to catch it, but it was further and further away.

 

“Try to talk now, sunshine.” McCreary taunts and is greeted with nothing more than whimpers. His smile stretches across his face. “And I never even got that please.”

 

Clarke _wants_ to yell. She _wants_ to scream. She claws at the collar around her throat and finds she can’t do any of that. She finds panic coming to steal her away, darkness curling around her eyes.

 

Simply another thing that was taken away.

 

***

 

Clarke paces in her cabin.

 

 _Used to_ isn’t the words she’d describe her new situation, but it doesn’t seize her in a panic anymore. She spent the night with the metal painfully pressed against her throat and somehow, the sun rose the next morning.

 

When Diyoza came to pick up McCreary, she raised an eyebrow at what was clearly angry red splotches around her neck, black blood, and the sudden inability to speak. Clarke tried to find something to write with – warn her of the betrayal yet to come – but when her hands reached for a pad of paper, McCreary’s reached for the controller. Then explained Clarke had attacked him, and he needed to take drastic measures. After a tantalizing moment of hope, Diyoza nodded, accepting his explanation.

 

She couldn’t do anything.

 

Include sleep.

 

Clarke spent the entire night, going over everything in her head, trying to find a loophole to get a message to Diyoza. To Shaw. Except McCreary’s men have taken resident in front of her building and inside of it. She paced with a strange man in the corner of the room, his hands ever-too-close to the controller.

 

When morning came, McCreary slips inside the cabin, gesturing at her guard to leave. Once the door’s closed, McCreary tilts his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Clarke.” He states. “I’m simply taking back what’s mine.”

 

Clarke doesn’t even part her lips.

 

“You know, I like you better when you don’t talk.” He chortles, walking around the cabin. “Your opinion really makes you lose your appeal.”

 

Clarke opens her mouth to snap at him, but nothing more than a wheeze comes out.

 

He snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ve made sure your friend Shaw is too busy to visit you. I realized the space station had some supplies that we needed to retrieve. Seeing as he’s the only one who can fly the ship, it makes sense for him to go.”

 

She can’t help it, tears start to well in her eyes.

 

“And trust me, I will be with you every moment until the strike. It’s only two days. Once it’s over, we can practice saying please some more.”

 

In that moment, Clarke snaps.

 

She sprints toward him, unable to control the fury coursing through her.

 

In instant, she’s on the ground. Only this time, it’s so much _worse_ , everything is amplified and she can’t scream, she can’t breathe. When it’s over, it’s as if someone’s stepping on her chest, daring her to try to catch up.

 

“Tsk, tsk, sunshine. You know what happens when you aren’t nice.”

 

Clarke barely registers the whimpers she’s making, her hands gripping the collar as if she can somehow tear it off. “You better clean up, you have another appointment.” He moves to the chair in the corner of the room, sitting down and staring at her.

 

With shaky legs she manages to get up, hoisting herself with the ledge of the table. McCreary seems to enjoy watching her struggle which only pisses her off further, but it takes a couple minutes for her legs to stop shaking.

 

There’s a soft knock at the door.

 

“Vincent, come in!” McCreary calls.

 

Clarke’s head whips up.

 

Vincent.

 

When he enters the room, he takes up a terrifying amount of space, his neck charred with a collar clasped around it. Clarke backs up, trying not to be too scared, but she can do nothing more than try to catch her breath.

 

Clarke opens her mouth to say something, forgetting for the smallest moment that she can’t. Instead a gasp of air comes out, ragged and pained, grasping for words that will never come. McCreary chuckles. “You have to excuse sunshine here. She’s not feeling very chatty.”

 

Vincent nods, stepping closer to her.

 

Clarke reads his file once more in order to prolong going near him, but then her attention is caught. _Triggers._

_Patient is prone to violent outbursts upon certain stimuli. The only deterrent is electricity through shock collar. These include the touching of the back of the neck, touching without being in view, the side of the temple, elbow, and palm. Use caution when approaching._

There’s a thud and a controller is placed before her. McCreary winks when he sets it down. “Just in case it gets too rough.”

 

She brushes her fingers over the controller, unable to keep herself from eyeing the collar around his neck.

 

_All of me for all of us._

 

It is a beautiful sentiment. Pouring yourself into everyone to make sure they lived. Even if it meant sacrificing everything you had.

 

 _I bear it, so they don’t have to_.

 

Clarke looks at Vincent. Her hands shake, fear taking hold of every part of her. She wills herself to move forward, telling herself it’s necessary. She has to do it. She doesn’t have anyone.

 

She has to save them.

 

_These include the touching of the back of the neck, touching without being in view, the side of the temple, elbow, and palm._

Hands out in front of her, she steps closer to Vincent.

 

Can you still pour everything you have to people who’ve already drained you empty?

 

She gives him a wry smile as if to say, _“Ready?”_

 

What they don’t tell you about sacrifice is the fear. The fear of everything ending in a moment. She focuses on the drawings around her. Madi, Raven, Murphy. Harper, Echo, Emori. Her mother, Kane, Octavia.

 

Bellamy.

 

_I have to save them._

 

She reaches out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here. We. Go.
> 
> I don’t know about you, but I got MAJOR creepy vibes from McCreary. From “…she’s pretty too” to the weird ass looks he gives everyone around him. I have a feeling the main villain will be him and his coup if it’s not Octavia – still trying to see how they could wrangle a redemption arc.
> 
> I really hope you like it – please let me know what you think if you have the time! Next chapter we have Bellamy – with a distraught preteen, an unhinged sister, and a gladiator cult. So, business as usual…???


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you guys are lovely! So – Chapter 4 was my goal before Tuesday’s episode, which will become apparent once you read.
> 
> This is the chapter that really sets up the main source of conflict. I’m in this weird area where I know EXACTLY how this fic is going to end and I want to just write it, but we’ve got some angst to get through! 

CHAPTER 4

_Bellamy_

 

Bellamy needed a moment.

 

He told himself he needed to ensure Raven, Emori, and Murphy were alright, and then that Madi was calm enough to be left alone. Then he needed to check with Echo, then find a place for the newcomers to sleep. Bellamy simply kept moving, telling himself that he had to put one foot in front of the other, solve everything he could think of – everything he _could solve_ – and maybe the hole in his chest wouldn’t feel so catastrophic.

 

So when Raven is sleeping restlessly in their tent, Harper and Monty are stationed outside the rover in case Madi gets any ideas, and the rest of Spacekru are either eating for fast asleep, Bellamy takes out the sketchbook and steps away. He walks a fair distance, so far that he can barely hear the chatter and the dim lights from the fires are only a suggestion. He walks until he’s surrounded by the stars glittering in the sky and a barren, unforgiving desert.

 

Then he looks up.

 

He can’t help but wonder wistfully how often Clarke drew her attention to the sky, waiting for their return home. It’s not a particularly happy thought, but Bellamy is struggling to find many happy thoughts these days, so he allows himself this painful indulgence. In his hands he grips the sketchbook Kane gave him, unable to show anyone else. It’s selfish, sure, but he needs a moment alone with Clarke.

 

Now, this is all he has.

 

He sucks in a breath, his fingers trailing down the spine of the sketchbook. He wanted a moment. It’s his for the taking now, so why was he so hesitant?

 

If he thought he was ready to open it, he was wrong. But then again, he’s not sure he ever would’ve been ready.

 

Because the pages are filled with _Clarke_. Her lines, her thoughts, the way she sees the world. He can see her thought process, erasing and redrawing, scribbling and shading. He feels her in the strokes on the page, as if she’s sitting here next to him, explaining what she’s doing.

 

It’s odd, though. Because it reminds him that Clarke, at her inherent core, is soft. That she’s an artist. An artist who was thrust in a position that no one would envy. A position that put her in charge of lives and of deaths. He watched as the decisions piled up and started fracturing her, but he couldn’t do anything about it because he was being clobbered too.

 

On the next page, he sees sketches of a wild girl, crouching by a lake, running up rocks. It’s strange to see Madi so young and all it does is confirm what he feared: Clarke was alone.

 

She denied it, she avoided the subject, but she was alone. She had to figure out what to do, how to survive. He often wondered if things were different and Clarke Griffin was never sent to the ground, would they have survived? He’s not sure.

 

Actually, he is. They wouldn’t have. Bellamy would’ve lost his sister and his life.

 

When he turns the page, he’s face-to-face with himself. He can’t help but run his fingers across the smoky lines, from his intolerable mess of curly hair to his stern expression. Except there’s something about his eyes that’s gentle, as if Clarke saw a side to himself he didn’t recognize. It is intimate, seeing himself through her eyes. Seeing himself portrayed as something secure and soft, as opposed to the person whose decisions lead countless lives to be ended.

 

He doesn’t know how long he spends going through the pages of the sketchbook, desperately clinging to any sort of story he can pull from their pages. It’s all in pieces, pieces he tells himself he’ll get the answers to once Clarke is back with him, when he figures out a way to bring her back.

 

Flipping another page, he pauses. Near the back, he sees sketches of guns. Guns were drawn in stacks, each getting larger and larger, more menacing as he went down. He finally reaches one that he recognizes from disintegrating a man in front him. He frowns, thinking he should probably show Raven or Monty these sketches.

 

Except he doesn’t.

 

He will, perhaps in the morning. But right now, he’s keeping her with him, alone.

 

Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe he should rush over, show them what he found. But he doesn’t. Instead, he draws his attention to the sky, gazing at the stars.

 

It’s was a tragedy, their life on the ground. They were like their own satellites, crossing each other in space, but never colliding. It was if she was the sun and he was Icarus, flying closer and closer until he burst into flames.

 

Maybe that was issue with them? No matter how close he got to her, his wings melted and they would part again, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke and the blinding light from the sun.

 

***

 

“She hasn’t come out at all morning.” Raven says, her arms crossed and glaring at the rover. “We need to do something.”

 

“Why don’t we just smoke her out?” Murphy suggests, earning scowls from everyone around him. “I mean, we all know Clarke wouldn’t encourage someone being a dramatic _hormonal teenager_!” He shouts, but is given nothing in return. He sighs. “Worth a shot.”

 

Bellamy puts his hands up. “Let’s not provoke her, shall we?” He says. “She’s right though, we need a plan to get Clarke back. So Raven, why don’t you look at the drawings of the weapons Clarke made and see if there’s anything that you can guess about their technology.”

 

Raven sighs. “An orthographic sketch of a gun isn’t going to help us here, Bellamy.”

 

“Can you please take another look?” Bellamy groans, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Uh oh,” Murphy states. “He’s about to tell us the necessity of togetherness and friendship again.”

 

“Murphy—”

 

“Everyone, let’s hold hands and tell each other how much we love one another!”

 

Raven smacks him upside the head, earning her a swipe from Murphy. She dodges it easily, snapping, “Let’s focus, shall we?”

 

“You were the one that was causing him to give us another heartfelt speech. I was told there would be a moratorium on them once we got to the ground. If I hear that I’m important one more time, I’m gonna hurl.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

 

“Well you are, so suck it up and deal.” Raven snaps.

 

“Inspiring.”

 

“Okay, we’re getting off topic.” Bellamy says, hoping to corral the conversation. “Raven, please study the drawings again and see if you can salvage anything from the wreckage from Polis. Take Monty with you – he’s been here for a few days and probably has some ideas.”

 

Monty puts his hands up. “I think you’re overestimating my skill.”

 

Bellamy smiles at him. “You kept us alive for six years in space with an algae farm. I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

 

Harper eyes the rover. “What about Madi? Who’s going to watch her?”

 

“I am.” Bellamy states. “I think we need to talk.”

 

Murphy frowns. “Is that such a good idea? She’s the spawn of Clarke and Monty said she assassinated four people without thinking when you guys landed. Sure, she’s a badass, but she’s a badass with a grudge and a gun. She’ll use her innocent preteen façade to fool you into a false sense of security.”

 

Bellamy shakes his head. “It’ll be fine, Murphy. I’m going to talk to her and we’re going to come up with a plan.”

 

Murphy runs his hand down his face. “God, I miss Clarke.”

 

Bellamy knows he says it off the cuff, but he can’t help but wince at the words. In an instant, a tension settles among the ground, even Murphy shifting awkwardly. “Yeah, we all do.” Raven snaps, elbowing him in the ribcage.

 

“You know what I mean,” he hisses back, casting a worried glance at Bellamy.

 

“You know what you need to do.” Bellamy speaks over them. “Please, trust me on this?”

 

Before anyone can respond, a figure jogs over, casting a few furtive looks over their shoulder. Bellamy’s surprised when he sees Miller come into view, the scarf over his head covering the sides of his face as he approached them.

 

“Miller?” Murphy says with a huff. “I thought you were Octavia’s lap dog these days.”

 

Miller’s eyes narrowed. “And I thought you were a prisoner. And yet here we are.”

 

Murphy scowls, cross his arms. Bellamy puts his hands up between the two, not caring for the glint in Murphy’s eyes as he takes in Miller. “Is everything okay?” He asks.

 

Miller glances behind his shoulder. “Diyoza reached out again.” He says. “She’s coming here in a couple hours and asking for another favor in return for more supplies. I thought you’d want to be there.”

 

Raven steps up to him. “Why should we believe you? Just the other day, you had a gun aimed at our heads. As much as it pains me to say it, Murphy’s right.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You’re Octavia’s errand boy.” She says dangerously and Miller’s jaw twitches. “There’s nothing you do that she doesn’t know. Why should we trust you?”

 

Miller purses his lips, his hands twitching toward his weapon as if by instinct. “Octavia was going to sell out Jackson.” He states through gritted teeth. “You guys don’t get it, you don’t get what we had to endure in the bunker for six years. You don’t get what we had to do to stay alive. Jackson saved so many people. So many…” he wipes his mouth, his frustrations getting the better of him until he starts over. “When Abby started to go off the rails, Jackson was the one who saved everyone. He saved countless people and she was willing to throw that away as if it were nothing?

 

“You guys know I didn’t always agree with you and Clarke.” Miller says to Bellamy. “And god knows we had to do our fair share of screwed up stuff to stay alive on the ground. But you two always tried to save as many people as you could. Clarke once said that we don’t get to decide who gets to live anymore. I think if she were here, she’d also say we don’t get to decide who dies for us. We can’t give lives like they’re nothing.”

 

Bellamy nods. He doesn’t know what to say, how to act, or respond. Instead, he nods and Miller returns it. “Maybe one day we’re learn our humanity again.” Miller says, too sad for Bellamy to take. “In the meantime, you need to be there, Bellamy. You need to be at every meeting. The way Octavia’s going, she’s going to kill us all.”

 

With that, Miller turns and leaves.

 

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Murphy states as they watch him go. “Octavia’s going to know he’s giving us intel.”

 

“Well, we better figure out a way to keep her from knowing then.” Bellamy responds. “We’ll reconvene before Diyoza gets here with the information. Maybe there’s something we can trade back for her. Raven—”

 

“I know, I know,” she says with her hands up. “I’ll scour the sketchbook and terrain. If there’s a piece of technology here, we’ll find it.”

 

That seems to break any sort of disagreement up, everyone scattering to their own tasks. Echo steps up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Her eyes are cast down on the sketchbook in his hands.

 

“I promised Clarke I would look after Madi.” He states. “I’ve got to try.”

 

Echo’s looking at him like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, just as she had focused on many things in the Ark. He’s uncomfortable under this gaze and isn’t sure why, and feels like he should confess to something that he doesn’t know. In the end she simply nods, squeezes his shoulder before she goes, and runs to follow Raven and Monty.

 

Bellamy approaches the rover, the doors all sealed shut and no indication that anything living is within. He pulls on the handle, fully expecting it to be locked, but is surprised when it opens with ease. As soon as the doors are wrenched open, he hears quiet crying. Somehow that’s worse than rage, cracks in his resolve spidering up his spine. “Madi,” he calls quietly. “Can we talk?”

 

The only response he gets is heavy, wrecked breathing. There’s no gun to his head, so he takes this as a good sign, hops inside the back of the rover, and closes the door.

 

It’s cramped inside, clothes and knick knacks hanging from the walls of the rover. Along with supplies and twine are glittering items that Bellamy thinks the two gathering from their travels, finding pretty things amongst the destruction. “What are you doing here?” Madi finally says, her voice raw and unrelenting.

 

“Madi,” Bellamy says. “We’re going to get Clarke back. We need to think it through, though. Charging into their camp without a plan and outnumbered is going to get us – and Clarke – killed.”

 

He only receives crying in return.

 

Propped against the rover wall is a rifle, worn with use and years. He can’t help but reach out to it, pulling it from the wall where it leans. He runs his hands over the strap, names carved into the leather. Name after name. _Wells, Finn, Jasper, Lexa, Charlotte…_ they go on and on. Bellamy finds breathing to be a bit more troublesome than before, each name more painful to read than the last.

 

“She says it’s to honor all that she lost.” Madi says, propping herself up and wiping her eyes. They’re red and swollen, tears still present and active despite her calm demeanor. “She said she needs to remember every single person and what they sacrificed.”

 

He holds the gun, wishing not for the first time today, that Clarke was with him now.

 

“Bellamy, please.” Madi pleads. “I need to go after her.”

 

Bellamy scoots closer to her. “I know you do. And I do to. But you know Clarke would kill both of us if we went charging in there without using our heads.”

 

Madi closes her eyes, tears rushing down her cheeks the moment she does so. “I don’t have any family left.” She says, her words small and catching.

 

There’s a terror in her voice that Bellamy understands, thinking of Octavia in the tent. “I know,” he says. “I know I’m asking the impossible of you. But I need you to trust me, just for a little while longer. We’ll figure out how to get her back, but we need to do it in a way that will keep everyone alive.”

 

Madi simply curls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Bellamy uses this opportunity to scoot closer to her so that they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, but not touching. He resists the urge to put an arm around her, still too unfamiliar with her to really read the situation, so instead he leans against the seats of the rover and looks around. “I like what you guys have done with the place.” He says, trying to keep the weight out of his voice.

 

Peeking up from where her face is buried in her arms, Madi blinks. “Clarke always said even if the world ended, doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful to.”

 

Bellamy can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Sounds about right. She never really got that opportunity when we were on the ground.” He says, thinking of the sketchbook and how the world took an artist and forged her into a warrior.

 

He continues to look around, Madi quieting down until she surveys him. It’s uncomfortable to be under her gaze. “Why did you grow a beard?” Madi asks after a moment.

 

Not the question he was expecting. He runs his hands down it. “It’s hard to care about shaving at the end of the world.”

 

“But you had six years in space, didn’t you get bored?”

 

“You can get bored of shaving in six years too, you know.” Bellamy offers. “Did you guys sleep in here?” He asks, nodding at the pillows and blankets tucked in the corners.

 

Madi unlatches her legs, leaning a bit into Bellamy’s shoulder. “Only on days we wanted to be outside or traveled too far to get back to the valley. Clarke really liked looking at the stars. I think it made her feel less alone.”

 

Bellamy sucks in a breath, but doesn’t respond.

 

“She tried to hide it because I don’t think she wanted me to feel bad, or think that she didn’t love me.” Madi continues. “But I know she wished someone was here to help. Wished _you_ were here to help.”

 

“If I knew—”

 

“You couldn’t have come back sooner.” Madi says quietly. “She knows that.”

 

Bellamy opens his mouth to argue and realizes that he’s considering arguing with a preteen. He sighs. “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

 

Madi leans her head on his shoulder. “You are.” Her chin trembles and her next words catch, “She always knew you’d come. Is it bad that I kinda wish none of you had? Do you think she’d be mad at me?”

 

Bellamy peers down at her. “What do you mean?”

 

“We were happy.” Madi says. “W-We… it wasn’t scary. There weren’t people trying—”

 

He decides now is the time to wrap his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “I don’t think that’s bad at all. And she wouldn’t be mad. Every day we’ve been here has been a bad one for you two. I’m sorry for that.”

 

“Ugh, that makes it worse.” She groans.

 

“Why?”

 

“Now I feel bad.”

 

Chuckling, his attention is caught by something. “What’s that?” He asks, pointing to a piece of equipment in the corner.

 

Madi’s eyes widen and she reaches out, pulling a rusted radio from the corner of the Rover. “Uh,” she say, scrubbing her eyes. “Nothing. Just something we found a while ago.”

 

Bellamy frowns. He reaches for it, pulling the old radio in front of him. “Wait, I recognize this.” He says. “This is the radio I used to talk to O before the bunker was sealed.” He states. “The one that malfunctioned in Praimfaya.”

 

“Uh, I wouldn’t know.”

 

“Clarke had this. Why did she keep the radio?”

 

Madi shrugs. “I think you’re going to have to ask her. See? Another reason we should figure out how to save her.” She scrambles to the end of the rover and swings the door open. “I’m hungry. Do you think Raven will let me help her with whatever she’s doing? Clarke always said watching Raven work was like art too.”

 

Bellamy can’t take his attention off of the radio. “Yeah, actually that’s a good idea.” He says absently. “Raven is looking at the sketches of the guns that Clarke made. Maybe you can give her some more information of how they work. She’s with Monty in the ruins.”

 

“Cool.” Madi states. She pauses before hopping out of the rover. “Bellamy?”

 

He finally looks up.

 

“Clarke said that no matter what you guys faced on earth, you always found a way back to each other. Do you think that’ll still be true?”

 

That’s the question, isn’t it? If there was a man in space and a woman on earth, could they make their universes collide?

 

“I hope so.”

 

Madi seems to accept this answer, hopping out and running off.

 

Bellamy can’t stop looking at the radio though. Fumbling around with the equipment, he sees a tape cassette in the center. Pushing open the front, Bellamy reaches and grabs the tape. He holds it in front of his face. The tape is completely full to one side.

 

He closes his hand around it, joining Madi outside the rover. Without so much as looking at anyone, he places it in his pocket.

 

***

 

“Okay, here’s the plan: Echo, you distract Octavia with a butterfly, Raven goes in and starts speaking in code until everyone is so bored that they’re unconscious, Bellamy gives an inspirational speech about overcoming oppression and fighting for what you love, and I steal all the meat in a two mile radius because I’m fairly certain that the algae Monty gave us has made me sterile.”

 

“Oh my god, _Murphy_.” Emori groans, glaring at him from across the huddle of Spacekru.

 

Madi makes a face. “You are so much weirder than I thought you’d be.”

 

Murphy puts up his finger. “Okay, listen up you little runt. _Clarke_ obviously thinks I’m funny. That simply means that my level of humor is higher than your tiny little brain can handle.”

 

Raven smacks him and Madi laughs. “See, that’s funny.”

 

“And everyone wonders why I stayed to my own side of the ship.” Murphy mutters, rubbing the back of his head.

 

Echo rolls her eyes. “Moving on. Bellamy, do you really think that Octavia’s going to let you into the council meeting with Diyoza again? Every time you’re there, you tend to be a… bit rash.”

 

Murphy snorts. “That’s a cute way of saying ‘irrational hothead.’”

 

“I’ll take Raven and Monty with me this time.” Bellamy states. “Raven thinks she’s figured out some information with their weapons thanks to Madi’s help—”

 

“I don’t know how me telling you guys how they shot Clarke and I was helpful.” Madi grumbles.

 

“It was,” Raven smiles, nudging her shoulder. “You gave me details I never would’ve gotten from a sketch.” Madi beams at her.

 

“—and we’ll see if we can barter our way in. I’ve been to the valley and Madi’s lived there, so we know more about it than anyone. Even with the fanaticism of Wonkru, they’ve got to recognize that one of us needs to be in the room.”

 

Madi lights up. “I’m coming with you?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Bellamy states. Undeterred by her sad expression, he continues, “You’ll stay with Echo near the rover. Echo – make sure to keep an eye out for Gaia. With Clarke gone, I don’t want her thinking now is her opportunity to do anything.”

 

Echo nods. _“Oso throu daun ogeda, strik gona.”_

 

Madi grumbles, _“Ai’m nou strik.”_

Murphy stares. “Right. What do you want me to do?”

 

Bellamy thinks about this. “Why don’t you come with Raven and I? You have a bizarre talent of talking yourself out of things.”

 

“I know, I’m amazing.”

 

“That was not what you were supposed to take away from that.” Emori drawls and Murphy ruffles a bit.

 

“Listen up, we’re not going to start a war with Wonkru or with Diyoza.”

 

Echo nods. “Only a fool would fight a war they cannot win.”

 

“We are going to get information and see if there’s anything we can trade to get Clarke back. We will all meet back at the rover before nightfall. Understood?”

 

Everyone agrees and parts once more, Raven and Murphy falling in line with them. “You sure this is smart?” Murphy asks after everyone leaves. “Your sister is a little nuts.”

 

“A little?” Raven breathes and Bellamy fights the instinctual urge to defend her.

 

“She hasn’t killed me yet,” Bellamy states.

 

“That is so not a good yard stick to measure with.” Murphy says. “Good god, it’s like we just got to the ground all over again.”

 

“Murphy, we did just get to the ground all over again.” Bellamy snaps. “And the ground is different – again. If we’re going to survive this, if we’re going to manage to make it out alive, we’re going to have to figure out how we can convince everyone not to destroy the one piece of inhabitable land left.”

 

Raven stills. “Do you think they’ll destroy it?”

 

Bellamy steels himself. “I think that there are two grounds of people not backing down and one piece of land left on earth. Do you think those are good odds?”

 

Murphy grumbles. “I take it back, your inspirational talks need work.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to be inspirational, I was trying to be honest.” Bellamy says. “We need to figure out how to stop this war before we end up destroying everything.”

 

“Here we are, repeating history.” Raven mumbles.

 

“Hey, that’s what I say.” Bellamy says.

 

“We _know_.” Raven and Murphy say at the same time.

 

They laugh, but it’s cut short when they reach the council tent. “Okay, you guys with me?” Bellamy breathes.

 

“Always.”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

Raven and Bellamy roll their eyes at Murphy, who claps both of their backs. “Just trying to relieve the tension.”

 

When they step in the tent, it’s much more of an aggressive greeting than he’s received. Every member of Wonkru turns to point their weapons at them, Murphy putting his hands up instantly. “Is it just me or have the greetings on the ground gotten worse?”

 

“Who told you?” Octavia bellows.

 

Bellamy snaps his mouth shut. In front of him are Abby and Kane, both standing side by side in front of Octavia, a little worse the wear. Both their faces are cut up, but they seem relatively together, considering Bellamy was almost certain Octavia was going to execute them on the spot.

 

Octavia glowers at Bellamy, not hint of love or devotion that was once there. He’s thought about their time apart a lot at night, wondering if the years of being under ground broke her in ways he couldn’t understand. It was a cruel fate, to lock her once more when she spent her entire life locked away, but there was no answer to solve such a cruel problem.

 

There never was, was there?

 

“Tell me who told you,” Octavia growls, her hands to her sword in seconds. “Or I’ll—”

 

“It was me.” Miller states, stepping up, his hands nowhere near his gun and his resolve firm. “I told Bellamy about the meeting.”

 

The guns turn toward him. “O, don’t—” Bellamy starts, but Miller shoots him with a look.

 

“You betrayed Wonkru?” Octavia asks darkly.

 

Miller doesn’t shake. His eyes are hard, daring Octavia to move closer. “You’re willing to gamble with Jackson’s life? I’m willing to gamble with my own.”

 

“That’s not a gamble,” Octavia seethes, lunging toward him. “That’s a death sentence.”

 

She takes two more strides toward him and Bellamy reaches out, unable to stop himself. Before either Blake can reach Miller, the wind outside the tent picks up, the fabric snapping back and forth, dust flinging in every direction. Octavia completes the distance and places the sword underneath Miller’s throat, tight enough to draw blood. “O, please,” Bellamy pleads.

 

Her hands are quaking. “Lock him up.” Octavia states, nodding to the other guards. “He sealed his fate.”

 

Miller doesn’t shout. He doesn’t resist the two men he was just standing side-by-side with as they wrench his arms back and lock his wrists up. He merely glares at Octavia back, as if daring her to tell him he’s wrong. Before she can turn to face the guests arriving in the tent, he says softly, “If you’re willing to gamble your people and not yourself, the people will gamble their loyalty.” He states.

 

Octavia freezes. With a quick motion, she whirls around and slams her fist against his skull. “You are an enemy of Wonkru.”

 

Raven leans closer to Bellamy, an action he’s grateful for. Watching his sister slowly descend into darkness is something he never wished to see, and now that it’s before his eyes, he wonders what could’ve been done different. They had all changed, but perhaps the brokenness was irreparable in some.

 

Perhaps the Red Queen had taken root, and Octavia was no more.

 

“Bloodreina, the others are here.” Someone states by the opening of the tent. Octavia nods to allow them to come in, Diyoza and McCreary stepping inside.

 

Abby and Kane are shoved toward the edge of the tent where Bellamy is, and Raven takes a moment to scowl at Abby again. It’s small and petty, but Bellamy can’t help but smirk at it.

 

“Two favors in less than three days.” Octavia says. “Perhaps you’re not the leader your people think you are.”

 

Diyoza lifts an eyebrow. “An unyielding leader who does not accept the help of others is no leader at all, she is nothing but a fool playing dress up.”

 

Bellamy can’t help but suck in a breath, fully expecting those to be the last words Diyoza ever utters. Octavia’s eyes narrow and her hand goes to the hilt of her sword, but doesn’t unsheathe it. “What do you want?”

 

“I want a truce. I will even give your people of survivable land that includes a piece of the water source.” Diyoza states. “My people are in the process of putting up an electric fence to make sure you don’t cross into what’s ours, but we are willing to split.”

 

Octavia frowns. “Why are you willing to give that up? What is so important that you would make such a trade?”

 

Diyoza’s eyes darken. “We need a doctor.” She states.

 

The intense rush of déjà vu hits Bellamy and he can’t help but interrupting. “What do you mean you need a doctor? You _have_ a doctor. Ours.”

 

Diyoza nods behind her and another member of her crew march in.

 

In that moment, the air disappears.

 

In the man’s hands is a small figure, crumpled and unconscious. Their hand hangs limply out of the person’s grasp, the only movement from the wind outside.

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy breathes, unable to stop himself from rushing over.

 

No one stops him, though. He fully expects someone to grab him, but no one does. Everyone’s attention is focus on the person being set on the war council table.

 

The collar’s so tight around her throat, Bellamy isn’t convinced she’s breathing. Black blood oozes from underneath, her skin so raw and inflamed it makes his hands shake. He would demand it be taken off at once, but he’s distracted by everything else. Cuts and bruise bloom on her face, bleeding from her hairline and past her lips, blood dripping on the table. Her arm is bent in a way that doesn’t look at all natural, her shoulder stretching against her skin as if the bones could no longer prop it up.

 

“What did you do?” Bellamy cries, unable to keep his hands steady. “What did you do?”

 

“We had an accident with one of our inmates.” Diyoza says without flinching. “Someone forgot to give her the controller.”

 

McCreary scowls. “I told you, I didn’t forget to give it to her, she had it! She didn’t even _try_ to go for it when Vincent snapped.”

 

But Bellamy barely hears him. All he sees is the sun fallen from the sky, and Icarus desperately trying to reach a warmth that isn’t there. With quaking hands, he reaches out and places his fingers at her throat. There’s a faint beating underneath, but it’s _there_. “Abby!” He exclaims, relieved she’s here. “Abby, she’s still alive. Please—”

 

Except Abby doesn’t move. She’s staring at Clarke as if she’s were a ghost, sent there to haunt her nightmares. Maybe she is. “Abby!” Bellamy cries, his voice quaking. “ _Abby!”_

 

Before he can do anything else, unable to step away from the dying sunlight, Raven stalks over to where she is. Without a word, she yanks Abby’s wrist and drags her forward roughly, Abby’s feet stumbling from underneath her. “You were _supposed_ to be different.” Raven seethes, flinging her at the table. Abby stumbles, catching herself before colliding with it. “You were _supposed_ to care. Fix her. Now.” Raven snaps. “Fix her or I’ll kill you myself.”

 

Bellamy feels like he should step in, talk Raven down, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Tears are welling in his eyes and her heartbeat is _so faint_ and it’s as if she’s begging to leave the world. He wants to tell her, _no_ , she wasn’t allowed to leave. Not again. He’s so tired of her _leaving him_ , he could just scream.

 

Abby hesitates. Her hands ghost over Clarke’s unmoving form, but not touching her. “I-I—”

 

“Fix her!” Raven shouts.

 

Then, something in Abby snaps. Her hollow eyes blaze to life and she looks at Bellamy. “We need to set her arm while she’s still unconscious. Hold her other shoulder. Raven, grab her feet.”

 

The seething rage radiating off of Raven dwindles and she rushes over, grabbing her thighs as Bellamy positions herself. “On the count of three, okay?” Abby states. “One, two, three!”

 

The noise is sickening. It replays in Bellamy’s head again and again, like stones grinding against each other. The pop back into place snaps and even Raven twitches and let’s go. Bellamy’s eternally grateful she’s unconscious for this as Abby cradles her head, shouting for someone to get her something to stitch.

 

Then her eyes snap open.

 

Bellamy expects a scream that never comes.

 

Her face flushes a hot read and tiny, panting whimpers emit from her throat and for some reason, it’s worse than any scream could be. She opens her mouth, but no words or sound comes out. Clarke claws at the collar, her noises growing, but no words.

 

“Take this off her.” Abby snaps. “She can’t breathe.”

 

Diyoza moves, but McCreary grabs her arm. “No, she’s still a danger to us.”

 

Diyoza’s eyes narrow. “A danger?”

 

“She attacked me, remember?” McCreary says, his words trembling so slightly, that Bellamy thinks he misheard it. “She killed four of our men when we got here.”

 

Diyoza’s hands clutch a small device, surveying  McCreary.

 

“We don’t have time for this!” Raven shouts. “Take this off!”

 

Clarke’s trashing around, her eyes darting around the room like a feral animal caught in the trap. Bellamy’s afraid to hold her down, afraid to touch her when he isn’t sure what would hurt, so he waits for any instruction by Abby. “Clarke, please stop,” he begs. “It’s us, you’re safe.”

 

If she hears him, she doesn’t reveal anything. She takes a swipe at Abby as she goes to touch her, Clarke’s hands gripping the map she’s currently lying on top of. Her movements freeze, the only thing coming from her being the tiny, pleading breaths. “Clarke—”

 

“Take this off of her!”

 

“Explain to me again what happened,” Diyoza states, her arms crossed. “You gave her the controller?”

 

“Of course I gave it to her! I’m not going to let Vincent destroy the person who’s going to save my life!”

 

“Clarke, please sit still, I have to check you out,” Abby says, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tries to lift her shirt to see the damage underneath, but Clarke won’t stop moving long enough for her to do anything.

 

“Clarke, it’s us, you have to be still.” Bellamy says, his hands hovering over her. They lock eyes for a moment and he thinks he’s gotten through to her.

 

Then she whips her head in Abby’s direction as Abby finally is able to lift her shirt up and _shoves_.

 

If he wasn’t so shocked, Bellamy might marvel at the strength of it. Abby stumbles back in the tent, collapsing to the ground as she hits Murphy and the two tumble. “What the hell!” Murphy exclaims.

 

Before Bellamy can react, Clarke rolls off the table, colliding with the ground herself. He moves to get her, but he freezes.

 

She’s pointing a gun on him, her eyes hard.

 

Bellamy chokes a breath, gazing back at the unforgiving eyes. His hands reach for his own weapon, realizing it’s now in her hands. “Clarke, what are you doing?” he breathes, putting his hands up. “We’re just trying to help you.

 

The pained breaths are quickening, her hand is shaking, but her resolve remains firm, like a mountain to the wind.

 

Then, she reached out with her arm that was just set and drags it across the ground. She closes her eyes and makes a horrifying squeal as she does so, pulling her body backwards until it hits the end of the tent, the gun never dropped.

 

Without taking eyes off Bellamy, Clarke reveals a piece of the map in her hand, pulling a pencil from her pocket. It’s charcoal, like all the drawings she made in her sketchbook. With her eyes focused on him, he watches as she scribbles something across the paper.

 

“Clarke, please.” Bellamy pleads. “What are you doing?”

 

Then she holds it up.

 

_McCreary_

_Mutiny_

_Bombs_

_Attack_

The words are tilted and shaky, almost impossible to read. But they’re there. Bellamy reads them out loud, his eyes widening.

 

Turning their attention to McCreary, the group watches as the realization hits him. Bellamy can see the gears in his mind running, going from shock, to panic, to rage.

 

“You _bitch!”_ He bellows, his wild gaze focused on Clarke. “You had Vincent attack you on purpose so we’d bring you here!”

 

Clarke’s harden resolve now shifts to him, as well as the gun.

 

With a swift movement, McCreary whips the assault rifle hanging from his back around, pointing it at everyone. With his free hand, he pulls the radio from his side. “Change of plans. We’re attacking now. I want this piece of shit excuse for a base camp to be in flames in five minutes.”

 

Diyoza stares, her eyes wide. McCreary flashes a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart. You weren’t that good in bed.”

 

And he leaves.

 

“Get him!” Octavia shouts, her guards already sprinting after him.

 

Bellamy hears as McCreary opens fire. The rounds spit off again and again, screaming coming from all corners of the camp. It’s a horrifying sound, but he tries to push it out of his thoughts. He can’t think of the bodies dropping outside the tent right now.

 

“Diyoza, we need to take this off!” Abby demands, grabbing the shell-shocked general. “Please! She’ll choke if it doesn’t come off.”

 

To Diyoza’s credit, she only takes a second before kneeling next to Clarke. In an instant, she’s unfastened the collar and Clarke doubles over, choking and spluttering. Bellamy reaches out for her shoulders and her hands go to him, gripping the fabric of his shirt as she tries to breathe.

 

“We need to get to the bunker.” Clarke manages, her voice rusty and pained, as if every syllable ran rocks down her throat. “The bombs were ready yesterday.”

 

“Clarke, you need to breathe—” her mother states, reach out.

 

Clarke recoils. “No, we need to take shelter. Octavia, we have to get everyone into the bunker.”

 

Octavia doesn’t move. Bellamy puts his arms under Clarke’s shoulder, carefully helping to her feet, except she crumbles the moment they’re upright. She grits her teeth, stifling a scream, which Bellamy tells himself that he can’t focus on. “O!” Bellamy shouts.

 

“You are not a member of Wonkru, so you don’t tell Wonkru what to do.”

 

“This is no time for a power trip, O! We need to get everyone to the bunker!”

 

“We will fight back. We will get the valley all to ourselves. If we hide underneath the earth again, the earth will never be ours.” Octavia states.

 

Indra, who had been standing close to her, steps back. “Octavia—”

 

“My name is _Bloodreina!_ ” She shouts, her eyes wild. “If you do not follow what I say, bombs will not be the only thing to fear!” She stalks over to where Bellamy is holding up Clarke, her legs nearly dangling underneath her. “I do not take orders from you anymore.” She states.

 

Clarke tilts her chin up, her eyes built of fire. “Yes, you are Bloodreina. You may be the Red Queen, fueled by the blood of your own people. But I am Wanheda. I am the Commander of Death. I have stared at the end of the world, watch the Death Wave descend, and yet only one of us is _still here_. You want to stay here and fight missiles from the sky? Fine. You can stay here and die among the flames of your own people or you can join me and live. _Choose._ ”

 

Neither of the women blink. Tension suffocates the room and Bellamy wonders if this is the place where they all meet their fate. Right when he’s about to say something, Octavia clears her throat. “Indra, sound the alarm. All of Wonkru to the bunker immediately. We have less than 5 minutes.”

 

“Yes, Bloodreina.” Indra states, grabbing a few people, including Miller, and rushing out of the tent.

 

“You will answer for your crimes, Clarke Griffin.”

 

“As will you, Octavia Blake.”

 

Octavia whirls around and sprints out of the tent.

 

Without letting anyone have so much of a breath, Clarke says, “We need to get there before Octavia locks us out. Madi?”

 

“With Echo.” Bellamy states. “Raven, Murphy – I’m going to take Clarke to the bunker. You guys go find the others and make _sure_ you get underground in time. You hear?”

 

They nod and sprint before Clarke can even open her mouth to argue. “I don’t want to hear it,” Bellamy says, hoisting her under her legs.

 

“I need to find Madi.” She grumbles, but it’s pretty weak so he can’t be too concerned.

 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Clarke, but you can’t walk. Do you trust me?”

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“Do you trust Raven and Murphy?”

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“Then please trust us to get back in time.”

 

By the time they get close to the entrance of the bunker, screaming and chaos is prevalent, like a disease. Bellamy can sense the fear as Wonkru stumbles into the bunker, cries for loved ones billowing out like a smoke. By the time Bellamy is able to wrangle Clarke inside, the bunker is barely full. It smells of death and blood, washed against the walls like a paint that he’s sure coats the inside of Wonkru as well.

 

He sets Clarke down gently, leaning her against a wall, trying not to thinking about Spacekru above ground. She grabs him. “You need to make sure they’re okay.” She states. “You need to make sure they make it back.”

 

“If I try to look for them, I could miss them. We need to use our head in this one.” He states.

 

Clarke looks at him as if he’s spoken a different language. Her eyes are vulnerable and teary, her hand reaching up. It hesitates for a moment, before she touches the side of his face. He leans into it, unable to stop himself. “Do you ever get tired of saving our lives?” He asks with a wry smile.

 

“All the time.” She quips.

 

He longs tor each out and cling to her, but he’s afraid. He’s afraid of what happened, what he doesn’t know. Bellamy sees her eyes drooping, her breathing getting more labored. So instead he reaches for her hand and squeezes, hoping to put as much as he can into it. She seems to get it because she squeezes back.

 

He opens his mouth to ask her a question, taking a breath—

 

“Clarke!”

 

They both flinch, as if they were in a bubble and someone popped it. Madi’s barreling down the bunker with the rest of Spacekru behind her, nearly catapulting herself into Clarke, who squeaks a bit, before wrapping an arm around her. “Sorry!” Madi exclaims, leaping back as if Clarke burned her.

 

“It’s fine,” Clarke says, wincing. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

 

“Me too.” Madi says, her eyes filled with tears. Then her face crumbles and she buries into Clarke’s uninjured shoulder, holding onto to her shirt.

 

The rest of Spacekru reach them. “Hey,” Clarke says and Bellamy can’t help but laugh at the lack of ceremony.

 

Before the rest can say anything, he hears Octavia shout somewhere in the bunker, “Close the door!”

 

Monty looks around. “Is everyone inside?”

 

Bellamy scans the room as well. He can’t tell with Wonkru scattered about, their small group settled overlooking the fighting pit. “I hope so,” he says instead.

 

Then the bombs go off.

 

They rattle the bunker, each hit more powerful than the next. Rocks and debris crash to the ground, the Earth feeling like it’s tilting. Spacekru tightens their group and Bellamy reaches out to everyone, wishing he could hold onto each one. Madi cries with each hit and Clarke holds her, whispering in her ear nonstop. The two hold each other, listening to the end of the world again.

 

He knows Madi hears the death of her people. He knows Clarke hears the abandonment of hers.

 

It’s an unforgiving world, he muses, as bombs drop around them and they cling to each other. But they’re sitting in Pandora’s Box, and perhaps Hope hadn’t flew away yet. Perhaps it’s here in the group of them, huddled and clinging to one another.

 

After several minutes of listening to the world break above them, an eerie silence settles in the bunker. Bellamy lifts his head, everyone else doing so as well. They are all alive.

 

Somehow, they still managed to survive.

 

“You’re all officially in the cockroach club.” Murphy states when the bombings seem to have stopped.

 

They all laugh at him, really _laugh_ like they hadn’t since landing on earth. Even Madi smirks and Clarke breathes, “I missed your jokes, Murphy.”

 

“See!” He exclaims. “Finally someone with a good sense of humor.”

 

For a moment, they have relief. For a moment, they have solace. They have solace that they’re together and (relatively) in one piece.

 

They’re all home.

 

Octavia bounds toward them, murder on her hands and in her eyes. “Two hundred didn’t make it in the bunker.” She spits at them. “And you have the audacity to laugh.”

 

“O—”

 

“You were too late, Clarke.” Octavia snaps. “You failed two hundred lives. Again. Their blood is on you.”

 

Clarke freezes. Before anyone can say another, Octavia stalks away, her cape flicking behind her. “What a crazy nutjob.” Murphy breathes.

 

Except Bellamy isn’t looking at Murphy. He’s looking how Clarke’s eyes are focused ahead, her lips trembling ever so slightly. He’s looking how distant and hollow they are, like the ghosts of Mt. Weather and Polis are around her gaze, threatening to destroy her once more.

 

She looks like she has become death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh man, so sorry that was so long! I wanted to set up the two main villains: McCreary & crew and then Octavia and Wonkru. And Spacekru is just chillin in the middle, with Monty going, “I told you we should’ve stayed in SPPAAAAACE.” :P Also, I wanted Diyoza to join up with Spacekru because I genuinely don’t believe she’s the season’s villain – also, I love her. She’s just the best. She reminds me of the John Mulaney quote, “She’s a bitch and I like her SO MUCH.”
> 
> Now, I fully believe Clarke has given up Waneheda, but I brought her back because I wanted super pissed Clarke who stands up to Octavia’s BS. But I also wanted Octavia, in turn, to blame Clarke because she a) made her look weak in front of her guards and b) needs to blame people for the lives she can’t save.
> 
> Also, this chapter has a BUNCH of nuggets of foreshadowing for the ending. And I didn’t want to give away the radio just yet – that reveal is yet to come.
> 
> Moving forward, this will delve into the war for the Valley with the 2 opposing forces and the dilemma: what if they destroy the only survivable place on earth!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts, you lovely manatees! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I hope you’re having a great day.
> 
> Apparently I’m just barreling through this…?? To be honest, I don’t typically write this fast, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen a storyline so clear in my head and so I’m like, ‘DON’T LOSE IT.’ And writing like a whack job.
> 
> Also, I know I’m making Octavia super intense, but it’s 100% inspired by Bob saying that we haven’t even seen the worst of Bloodreina yet… anyone else nervous?
> 
> Aftermath of 1st bombing, let’s do this!

CHAPTER 5

_Clarke_

 

And on the eighth day, the world erupted into flames.

 

Clarke sometimes wondered if God ever regretted resting on the seventh day. It opened the world for hurt and famine, destruction and pain. She thinks about all the times she was lulled into a false sense of security, only to have it be destroyed before her eyes. She sees that destruction before her without having to take a step above ground, knowing that everything above will be decimated to dust.

 

Madi’s clinging to her as if she’s afraid she’ll disappear, which Clarke supposes is fair. Her small hands grip her shirt tightly and it hurts – dear god, it hurts – but she doesn’t say anything because Madi’s here, alive, and as far as she can tell, untouched by the cruelty of this new world. Clarke tries to push out of her mind the amount of aching that’s coursing through her, push out the darkness that creeps around her eyes as unconsciousness begs her to join them. Logically she knows she should be lying down, getting a full checkup, but she can’t help but think of the world outside that they’re going to be entering.

 

A world she failed to save, yet again.

 

“I am become death,” she whispers to herself, the echoes of the bombs playing over and over in her head. Bellamy’s head whips in her direction, his expression pained and soft – too much for her to take in for too long. Clearing her throat, she says, “We should see if there are any survivors.”

 

Bellamy puts his hands up. “Actually, we should have someone check you out.”

 

Clarke opens her mouth to argue, but Echo cuts in, “Once the adrenaline wears off, you won’t be so eager to journey outside.” Clarke almost snaps at her, unable to control it for a moment, but instead she shuts her mouth so hard it clacks her teeth.

 

Raven’s eyebrow lifts when she does so, and the woman reaches out to squeeze Clarke’s arm. “From what I saw, the majority of the supplies were topside. We should go up there anyways to see if any of the equipment made it.”

 

It hits Clarke how much she missed Raven, missed her in a way that she couldn’t miss anyone else. She wraps her hand around the one placed on her shoulder, and squeezes. Bellamy clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything in return, his gaze going down her form as if he could scan what was actually wrong with his own eyes. After a tense survey, he gets to his feet, hoisting Clarke up as he does so. She lets out an involuntary groan, unable to conceal the shooting pains going up her sides as he does so. “Clarke,” Bellamy warns, using his other hand to wrap around her waist and she can’t help but flinch from that. Hurt paints his expression, but she can’t focus on that.

 

Raven steps up. “Actually, you got an entire hiking trip in the woods with Clarke while Murphy and I were up on the ship. I’d like some time, if you don’t mind.”

 

If possible, Clarke loves her even more.

 

Raven motions to Madi to grab her other side and somehow the three manage to drag her feet across the bunker until they approach the entrance, where the majority of Wonkru has already started to huddle around. Raven goes slow, leaning in close to whisper, “I still can’t believe you’re alive. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”

 

“I missed you too, Raven.”

 

Raven’s words are quiet. “You have no idea.” She shakes her head. “Can you… can you promise me something?” She asks. “Can you never do anything like that again?”

 

“You guys wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t.”

 

“I know, I just…”Raven takes a breath. “I’m the one who made Bellamy leave you. I’m the one who told everyone we couldn’t wait for you any longer. I was the one who made us all go.”

 

Clark turns her head, waiting for the multiple Ravens to settle before she implores, “I’m so proud of you for doing that.”

 

Raven trembles. “I’m not.”

 

“Raven, you saved everyone. All of you would’ve died in Praimfaya if you weren’t there. You’ve saved us again and again. Literally no one could do what you do and we all owe you our lives.”

 

“ _You_ don’t.”

 

Clarke opens her mouth to argue, implore her to understand, but her ribs scream as her leg trips over something on the ground and she nearly falls forward. Everyone in front stops to look, Bellamy’s expression horrified. He takes a few strides toward them, but Raven puts her hand up. “We got it, Bellamy.” She says sternly. They seem to have a wordless conversation which Raven wins, because he finally returns to the front. Raven leans in to mutter, “So how bad it? Should we be getting you to Jackson or something?”

 

Clarke shakes her head a few times, but even that seems to rattle her vision enough to see double. Blinking dazedly, she manages, “I’m fine.”

 

She doesn’t need to look at Raven’s face to know the expression she’s giving her. “Yeah, you look tip top shape.” Raven drawls and Madi giggles at her side. “Seriously, if you end up dying and I took you away from Bellamy, there might be a murder.”

 

“Please don’t say that.” Clarke mumbles, her vision getting spotty enough to where she knows she needs to lie down very soon. Her ribs protest and a few cuts lining her stomach are screaming for attention.

 

But she has to see it.

 

They get her up the stairs, her legs almost useless by now, and Bellamy has to hoist her out of the entrance. Raven scrambles out and offers her hand out, but this time Bellamy shoots her a look and uses his other to prop Clarke up entirely. Clarke can’t help it – Echo was right, the adrenaline is wearing off and she feels _everything_ – she has to bring her hand up to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Clarke, I swear to god, if you don’t listen to me this one time, I’m gonna—”

 

“Oh my god.” Someone breathes and her attention is caught by something else.

 

The sun is blinking above them, innocent and fierce, as if the further destruction of Polis wasn’t before them. The buildings were reduced to nothing but dust and ash, body parts strewn about as if columns and bricks. The smell of charred human skin is thick in the air, hovering over them like a cloud.

 

Tears form in Clarke’s eyes and she sees it all. She _feels_ it all.

 

Death.

 

It’d been a while since the presence of death was so close to her, hands around her throat until she chokes. But here it is, back, and she’s _choking_ , as if the lives of all those lost are piled on top of her. She feels them on her skin, their blood in her throat, and their lives carry weight that she cannot support herself. For a small time, she doesn’t feel how much her body screams, she doesn’t feel how broken it is, she just feels _them_.

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy starts, as if reading her thoughts. “This is not your fault.”

 

She opens her mouth to argue, but nothing but pitiful noises come out. Clarke can’t remember the last time she felt this small. Even when the Death Wave descended upon her and she fought to make it back to A.L.I.E’s bunker in time, she felt strong, lifted by the sacrifice she made for her people.

 

Now, she’s small.

 

She’s by herself at the end of the world, alone and broken, staring at a sky that wouldn’t give her answers. Space had taken everything she loved and left her in the bones of a broken world to scavenge and be brought to her knees.

 

“I couldn’t save them.” She finally says, the words shattering like the glass that makes up this fragile world.

 

“Listen to me,” Bellamy states, somehow supporting her and putting her in front of him so they’re face-to-face. “You saved us. If you hadn’t come back, all of us would be dead right now. You saved us all.”

 

She bows her head, unable to make sense of the words he’s saying, not with the bodies of so many littered around her. Her head spins a bit, the world tilting in the way it does, and she finds it hard to focus on anything else. _“Their blood is on you”_ replays in her mind over and over again.

 

It’s her curse, though. She bore it, so no one would have to. She didn’t realize she’d have to bear everything, she’d have to carry the weight of life on her shoulders, beaten down when one was lost. Would she repeat it, if she had known?

 

She knows she would. Somehow that makes it worse.

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy says firmly, but his voice is distant and tinny, like she’s exploring a tunnel and he’s calling for her to return.

 

She doesn’t want to. Instead, she goes deeper, until the world is as black as her blood.

 

***

 

The world slowly comes back into focus and she first becomes aware that she’s lying down on something extremely uncomfortable. The second thing she becomes aware of is that everything _hurts_ and as much as she wants to sit straight up and run, she finds that she can’t. Because the sheer effort it takes to open her eyes is enough for nausea to hit. Everything’s too bright, too loud, too _everything_. She groans, forcing herself to become present in the world again.

 

“Thank god,” someone breathes next to her and she hears someone shuffling next to her.

 

It’s almost embarrassing how long it takes her to turn her head, but when she does, she’s startled by the source of the voice. “Jackson?” She rasps, her entire throat felt like it’s made of fire and tears leak from her eyes.

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t talk to much if I were you.” He states, pouring some water on a rag and placing it over her neck. She winces at the touch, but after a few painful seconds, relaxes at the chill. “To keep you from talking, they tightened the collar so much it bruised your larynx. That with the shocks was enough to do some damage. I’d say only talk when absolutely necessary.”

 

Clarke lifts an eyes brow and he chuckles. “I know, I know. You don’t really say much unless it’s necessary, but I figure I might as well remind you.”

 

He works quickly at her side, checking her head as she takes in her surroundings. There are dozens of people next to her, all unconscious and smelling of fire and burned skin. A hand is strewn over her legs and she peers down to see Madi draped over her, her eyes shut. She clings to Clarke’s leg as she sleeps, her brow furrowed. “Couldn’t get her to leave.” Jackson states. “It took Octavia threatening all of Spacekru to leave, but for some reason she let the kid stay. I’m pretty sure she would’ve taken Octavia on if she hadn’t.”

 

Clarke doesn’t like the implication of that – or that Octavia was speaking with Madi in the first place – but keeps quiet. Jackson seems to notice her shift and says, “Octavia wouldn’t hurt a child.”

 

It’s frustrating not being able to talk, so she puts as much weight in her expression as she can.

 

“She… she wouldn’t.” Jackson says, but Clarke can tell he doesn’t believe it. So he focuses on her, wiping blood off her chin and arms. “So, you shouldn’t be doing anything too crazy, if you can. Knowing you and what’s going on, I know you’ll be a bit stupid about it, but be careful, alright? You have a pretty bad concussion and a few broken ribs. He also cut you a few times that were pretty deep, but seemed to miss everything important, thank god. And I’m sure you’re aware of your dislocated shoulder. He got you pretty good. To sum up: you got your ass kicked.”

 

Clarke is painfully aware. She tries not to think of how quickly it happened. The moment she touched his neck, the violence erupted in the cabin. She went from behind him to in front of him in a matter of moments, his rage fueled and his strength fierce. She did what she could to lessen the blows, but there were too many and they were too quick – she couldn’t stop it. She had to wait until McCreary realized what was going on to shock him and hopefully for it be bad enough that they would bring her back.

 

To be honest, she can’t believe it worked.

 

She watches Jackson carefully change her bandages, trying not to wince when he touches her ribs and failing miserably. “Sorry. There’s not much we can do for that. They need to heal.” Which Clarke gets. She’s said that a few times to people six years ago and it seemed like a non-answer.

 

“Your mom was here.”

 

With that, her head snaps up. She wants to say something, but her throat simply _hurts_ and she can’t do it.

 

“She treated you at first. She couldn’t stay.”

 

Clarke’s lip trembles and she looks away from him.

 

“She’s lost, Clarke.” Jackson says. “Listen, I’ve spent more time with your mother than anyone. Maybe even you. I’ve been her assistant, I’ve been her confidant. I’ve watched you grow up and I’ve watched your relationship. The woman who traded you for pills is not your mother. She’s lost right now, Clarke. Losing you broke her.”

 

“Are you saying this is my fault?” Clarke asks, a few tears falling as she winces at the strain of it.

 

“No,” he says quickly, putting his hands on her shoulders. “God no, Clarke. This isn’t your fault.” He holds her there. “ _None_ of this is your fault.”

 

Then she breaks.

 

Because it is, it _is_ , Jackson simply doesn’t understand. If she had thought of a way to them sooner, if she had figured out what to do _sooner_ , perhaps the two hundred lost would be with them. Placing her hand over her face, she tries to hide the tears, but knows it’s impossible because of the sobs. They eek out, forcing her sadness to be known in the trailer.

 

Madi’s head lifts off her legs and she says, “Clarke? You’re awake!”

 

Without another word, Madi scrambles next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist gingerly. “Thank you for coming back to me.” She whispers in her hair, her hands gripping her shirt.

 

“I’ll always come back to you.” She states and Madi bursts into tears. Clarke does what she can to wipe her own discreetly, desperate for the young girl not to see.

 

Running her fingers through her hair, Clarke focuses on the ceiling of the tent.

 

It was almost funny, how quickly everything fell back to the way it was six years ago. She never wanted to be Wanheda again, thought Wanheda died in the Death Wave, and yet she couldn’t think of anything else to do or say to convince Octavia to back down. Her entire body trembles when she thinks of the implication of it, of the repercussions that are yet to come.

 

While Madi cries at her side, she looks at Jackson. “Miller?” She asks.

 

Jackson’s gaze falls. “He’s detained. Octavia’s going to make a decision today.”

 

Brushing the hair out of Madi’s face, Clarke peers at her. “Time to go now, _ai niron_. The world cannot wait any longer.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Jackson states as Clarke twirls so that her feet dangle on the edge of the board she’s lying on. “That is going against everything I said was good for you.”

 

Clarke shudders when her feet touch the ground, barbs of pain shooting up her spine. “We can’t just wait for Octavia to execute Miller.” She groans, motioning for Madi to help her. Madi does as asked, ducking under her arm. “We have to get to him.”

 

“I know, but what are you going to be able to do?” Jackson asks. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Octavia isn’t in the mood for your advice these days.”

 

“Since when do I ask permission to give my opinion?” Clarke asks, grinning. Jackson stares at her as if she’s crazy – perhaps she is – but doesn’t try to wrangle her back into bed.

 

“I hope you realize they’re going to kill me when they find out I’ve let you go.” He mutters.

 

She doesn’t need to ask who ‘they’ are. “We’ll find a way to save Miller.” Clarke smiles, placing a hand on his cheek. “I have no interest in sacrificing the innocent.”

 

Jackson clenches his jaw. “The war council is meeting in the bunker. Bellamy is there as a Spacekru representative. He somehow managed to get Octavia to agree to him being there. Miller’s the last topic of discussion. If you don’t collapse, you might make it in time.”

 

Clarke nods. “Then I better not collapse.”

 

Jackson hesitates. “Clarke, I can’t ask you to do this. I-I don’t have any right to ask you to—”

 

“Good thing you’re not asking, then.” Clarke states, putting her hands up to shush him. “This is entirely my own decision. Actually, you can do me a favor though.” Clarke moans when she scoots out of Madi’s arm, who looks hurt at the gesture. “Can you watch Madi while I go?”

 

“No!” Madi exclaims. “No, I’m staying with you!”

 

“Madi—”

 

“No, you left me and I’m not letting you do that again.” Madi shouts. “I’m going with you!”

 

“Madi, please—”

 

“You left me, Clarke.” Madi says, her voice wavering. “I-I thought I’d be alone again.”

 

Clarke holds her face. “Madi, I am _always_ here with you. I will always be here for you. And most importantly, I will always be here to protect you. You are not alone, do you hear me? You are _not alone_.”

 

“Octavia isn’t anything like the stories.” She says. “She’s dangerous and she’ll hurt you.”

 

Shaking her head, Clarke sucks in a breath. “ _Ai niron_ , it might happen. But we cannot accept a world where that sort of violence is tolerated. It’s that sort of world that destroyed itself in the first place. We have a chance to be better – to _do_ better and we need to take it, alright?” Pulling her head and kissing the top of it, she says, “You can’t come. Octavia or Gaia could try something and I won’t risk your life in that bunker.”

 

“But you’ll risk yours?”

 

Clarke sucks in a breath, knowing it’s an unfair request. It is. She doesn’t know what to say to make Madi understand, until Jackson cuts in. “She’s not risking hers. Bellamy will be there. They’ll protect each other, like they always do. And you can protect me.”

 

Clarke makes a face, to which Jackson tilts his head outside the tent. “There are two guards posted at the entrance to make sure I don’t leave. To be honest, it’s the only reason I’m still here.”

 

Clarke flinches when she takes a step forward. “You could’ve led with that.” She says, her voice strained.

 

“Are you sure you can do this?” Jackson asks, putting his hands out to catch her if she falls.

 

“I’m never sure of anything,” she admits. “Doesn’t stop me, though.”

 

With what she hopes is a carefree smile – it probably looks more like a grimace – she moves past the two and steps out of the tent. Sure enough, two guards are standing there with their weapons, tensing at the movements. When they see here, they exchange a confused look, as if they aren’t sure if they should let her through or not. With a wry smile, Clarke pushes past them, a little pleased Octavia didn’t think to put limits on her as well. Probably didn’t expect her to be walking around, but she’ll take it.

 

Making her way through what once was Polis is heartbreaking. Some of the bodies are still strewn about and Clarke isn’t sure if Octavia will give the command to move them. If she had more time and more energy, she’d consider doing it herself. It doesn’t seem… right to have their bodies on the earth as if they mean something. The problem is, she’s having a hard time even putting one foot in front of the other.

 

Clarke has to take a rest close to the entrance, placing her hand on her side to see her stitches have pulled and her fingertips are black with blood. She’s secretly pleased that her blood is black and will blend in – that’ll at least keep Bellamy off her back for about five minutes before he realizes.

 

This was about Miller. About the kid who was sent to earth with her. The delinquent thief with a police officer father, whose last dying breath was spent saving him. Clarke grits her teeth. She knew what it was like to feel that sort of love once. A part of her yearned for it – craved it with every part of who she was – but knew she wouldn’t receive it.

 

There’s no love for a woman shrouded with death.

 

She reaches the bunker and finds herself nervous. The place she tried to claw herself into in the dark times, when she had nothing to live for and lost everything. It’s odd being back here, as if her demons are staring her in the eyes and demanding that she look at them. She spent years learning to deal with them, but somehow they’re back and louder than ever.

 

She enters the bunker, ignoring them for a little longer.

 

It doesn’t take long to find out where the council chamber is, the loud voices echoing throughout the bunker. She pauses before turning the corner of the room, her hand on the door for support. Closing her eyes, she tells the demons of her past to leave her alone. To let her be for once. “You can do this,” she whispers to herself, forehead against the stone wall. “You can do this, you can do this.”

 

The demons scream that she can’t.

 

Entering the war council room, Clarke does her best to not give Bellamy her attention, focusing everything on Octavia. “You have got to be kidding me.” Octavia snarls. “I should just kill you now and get it over with.”

 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Clarke states, annoyed that her words are so raspy and broken. She can feel Bellamy’s gaze on her but she tells herself to look anywhere but there. Pulling out an empty chair, she seats herself next to Indra, placing her hands on the table. They’re wrapped with bruises and her entire body is screaming at her to lie down, but she focuses.

 

“You were not invited here, Clarke. I’m only going to ask you to leave once.” Octavia’s low voice threatens.

 

“Actually, I’d like to stay. Because I’d like to say some words on Miller’s behalf.” She states, finally finding him.

 

Miller’s strung up in the corner, bleeding. She sucks in a breath when she sees that he’s held up by cuffs on the chain-link fence, blood dripping down his toes. Shaking her head, she clears her throat. “I’d like to offer you a trade.”

 

“What makes you think I would consider trading a single thing with you?”

 

“Well, you seemed all too willing to trade my life away, I figured you’d consider trading with me.” Clarke states calmly.

 

Octavia leans across the table. “What could you possibly offer me?”

 

“Information.” Clarke states.

 

“Information?” Indra asks at her side.

 

Clarke nods. “Not only have I been the only one on this planet for six years, I also lived in the valley and now have seen it since Diyoza’s crew has taken it. I know their weapons, I know their tactics, and most importantly, I know that the majority of them are sick. You need the information I have if you want to survive.”

 

“You underestimate Wonkru if you think we need your help.”

 

Clarke takes a breath to calm herself. She knows to speak to someone like Octavia, she has to remain unaffected. She has to remain rational. “I think that Wonkru is very strong. Formidable, even. But the people in the valley have technology that we can’t even imagine. It’s like we are the grounders and they are us – falling from the sky with weapons that can decimate us in a second. I can help in any way I can. For a price.”

 

Octavia’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You let Miller keep his life. And you allow myself and a Spacekru representative at all war councils. Do this, and I will make myself available to you. I will help how I can.”

 

Octavia leans in. “What if we just beat it out of you?”

 

“O—” Bellamy chokes.

 

“I think it’s clear beating me is pretty ineffective.” Clarke says, gesturing to herself with a humorless smile.

 

Tilting her head, Octavia says, “The Clarke Griffin I remember didn’t listen to orders. Did being alone break you?”

 

Clarke isn’t fazed. “Did it break you?”

 

Octavia studies her for a moment. Now that Bloodreina has taken over, Clarke has a hard time deciphering what is thought and what is vengeance. Perhaps the two are more interlinked than she thought.

 

“Let him down.” Octavia commands and two guards are on Miller in an instant, gently setting him to the floor. Clarke thinks she may have imagined it, but they appear relieved, casting worried glances in his direction.

 

“Thank you, Bloodreina.” Clarke says calmly.  “I’ll see myself out.” She finally turns to Bellamy, who looks like he may pass out at any moment – or at the very least, start shouting. “Can you help? I don’t think I can support him.”

 

In an instant, Bellamy is out of his seat and over to Miller, hoisting him up. Clarke touches his face and sees his eyes are open. He nods at her weakly and she smiles at him, knowing anything they say could be catastrophic in the bunker.

 

As they attempt to leave, Clarke hears Octavia call behind her, “I’ll be in touch, Clarke.”

 

She doesn’t stop their movement, but mutters, “I’ll bet you’ll be.” Under her breath and tries to ignore Bellamy.

 

They make it topside before he says anything, which is startling. “What were you thinking?” He hisses when they’re out of the bunker.

 

“Which part?”

 

“All the parts!” Bellamy exclaims and Miller groans.

 

“Can you yell at each other later?” Miller asks, pain coating his voice. “Because I’ve seen you two argue and it takes forever, and I could use a bed or something.”

 

Clarke doesn’t say anything further, but walks a few paces before Bellamy, leading them back to tent with Jackson. The moment they bring Miller into the tent, Jackson rushes over, cupping Miller’s face in his hands. “Help me get him on the table.” Jackson says, gesturing at Bellamy.

 

“It’s fine, Jackson, it looks so much worse than it is.”

 

“Shut up.” Jackson states, running his hands down his side. “I’m the professional here, remember?”

 

Miller grumbles in response.

 

Clarke searches, a fear creeping up her spine. “Jackson, where’s Madi?”

 

Without looking up, Jackson says, “Monty and Harper stopped by to see how you were and she went with them. I figured that was for the best.”

 

Clarke sighs with relief. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

Jackson places his forehead on Miller’s who brings his own hand up to brush his thumb against his cheek. It’s so intimate, Clarke feels like she’s stealing a moment from them. “Come on,” she says to Bellamy. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

 

Bellamy nods, his jaw twitching in that way it does when he’s particularly angry and can’t speak without yelling. Her head is punting a little too much for an angry Bellamy, but they leave nonetheless. As Clarke is lifting the tent, Jackson calls her, “Clarke!” He says, his eyes watering. She pauses. “Thank you. So much.”

 

With a faint smile, she nods and leaves them be.

 

Bellamy doesn’t say anything when they start toward where she assumes the rest of Spacekru has ended up, now that Polis has been brought to the ground even more. He doesn’t say anything when they pass members of Wonkru glaring at them, or when she starts to argue when she realizes they aren’t going anywhere near people. In fact, they’re going so far _away_ from people, by the time she’s about to really say something, he pulls her down to sit on a rock.

 

She waits for him to start because he clearly has something on his mind, but all he does is stare at her. Stare at her like he’s seeing her for the first time again, like he doesn’t believe she’s there. Clarke isn’t sure what she needs to do to make him believe it, and right before she’s about to say something, he stands again and says far too loudly, “I can’t believe you!”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

He starts to pace, gesturing at her, opening his mouth, and then pacing more. “I can’t believe you would just go to the bunker after everything. Octavia could’ve killed you!”

 

Clarke blinks. This is definitely not what she expected, but once she regrouped, she says, “Bellamy, Octavia was going to kill Miller.”

 

“Why do you think I was there, Clarke?” He exclaims. “Why do you think I was there instead of with you? I was going to get Miller back from Octavia, I was going to—”

 

“Well, I didn’t know that!” Clarke exclaims, wincing at the pull on her throat. Bellamy’s eyes flash at the movement. “I had to try and help.”

 

“This isn’t all on you.” Bellamy snaps. “You’ve been alone for too long—”

 

“I told you, I _wasn’t_ alone—”

 

“—and you don’t have to do it all anymore, you don’t have to throw yourself in the ring at everything!” Bellamy shouts, his anger back like she hadn’t seen since he returned to earth. It’s the first time she can see his heart bleeding out, pouring like it used to on the ground. “You can’t just ask me to sit by why you throw yourself on whatever you think is important. I’m not going to do it again, Clarke, I won’t!”

 

“I’m not asking you for anything, Bellamy!” She shouts back, despite how much it hurts. “I would never ask you—”

 

 _“You don’t have to!”_ Bellamy bellows and then he stops. He’s turned away, his back to her, his entire body visibly shaking. “I’d do it. I’d do it a hundred times. For you.”

 

Clarke can’t help but wipe a few tears away.

 

She forgot what it was like having Bellamy here. A part of her wondered if she idealized him in her head for six year, that he wasn’t this loyal, this loving. And yet here he is. “I never asked you to.” She murmurs.

 

At that, he turns his head, his eyes red. “You don’t have to.”

 

Then, in a quick movement, he joins her back on the rock and delicately pulls her in for a hug, his hand in her hair like all the times before.

 

Clarke stiffens, considers blaming her ribs to pull apart, but she can’t bring herself to so do. It’s so selfish – so completely selfish – but she doesn’t want to leave him. She doesn’t want him to let go. Every part of her tells her to stop, tells her it’s wrong, but she’s been so alone for such a long time, she can’t help but give in to this particular indulgence.

 

“Clarke,” he breathes and it sounds like a prayer on his lips – to what she isn’t sure. “Please stop leaving me.”

 

Clarke blinks, breaking away to peer at him. “Leaving you?”

 

“We just got you back,” he says, closing his eyes. She can hear the waver in his voice, hear the desperation. “I-I can’t lost you again. I’m not… I can’t.”

 

“Bellamy…” she says, her words as gentle as the hand she places on his cheek. He leans into it, a tear escaping from his lids. Clarke uses her thumb to wipe it away. “You have to believe that when I leave, I never want to leave _you_.”

 

His eyes snap open at that, boring into her. She shouldn’t have said it, she shouldn’t have given that piece to him. It wasn’t fair to say things like that, being the world they’re on. He’s with Echo and she’s alone with the deaths of those who came before her. “For me, Clarke.” He says, holding her head so she has to look at him. “Please don’t do that again. I-I’m not strong enough.”

 

Except Clarke can’t promise that. Neither can he. Instead she pulls him back into the hug and rubs his back, just as she did with Madi after she had a nightmare. It’s not fair, not answering him.

 

But it’s honest.

 

***

 

That nights, when Spacekru, Clarke, and Madi gaze at the stars, no one says anything. Madi clings to Clarke’s hand and she knows her nightmares will be loud tonight, as they always were when Madi was particularly upset about something. Clarke makes sure she’s far away from Bellamy and Echo, the pain of it too prevalent for her to handle.

 

Raven seems to sense this because she scoots over to them. Perhaps she simply wants to be next to Clarke after all these years, but Clarke isn’t complaining. Murphy is a couple yards away as well, which makes Clarke smile, even though he’s not-so-subtly stealing glances at Emori as he lies there. She wonders what happened to them, wishing time was more generous to let them talk about small stuff to the universe, but big stuff to their world.

 

As Clarke’s eyes slowly began to close, the wind picks up. She bolts upright, her ribs screaming in protest, and she curses not for the first time today for the most inopportune injury known to man. “What’s that?” Madi exclaims, clutching to Clarke’s shoulders.

 

Clarke’s eyes widen. “The Eligius ship,” she murmurs, eyes wide. “We need to take cover!”

 

“Where?” Raven cries. “Polis was brought to the ground and the rover was destroyed in the bombing!”

 

The ship slowly descend on them, it’s legs planting firmly on the ground. Clarke can hear the Wonkru soldiers rising from their sleep and sprinting to the ship with guns aimed at the door.

 

It begins to open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, a quieter chapter, but all I think important! With a bit of a cliffhanger... And after all the drama of last, I really wanted to focus on the aftermath. There’s quiet a big deal of foreshadowing in this chapter as well – which I hope you will like when revealed! 
> 
> Also, the argument re: Clarke and Bellamy was a small tribute to the 3x05 argument they had, which was amazingly raw and beautiful. They obviously haven’t talked about everything here (radio, Echo, etc), but Bellamy’s starting to have a hard time using only his head – which I think is fair. :P
> 
> I can’t wait until Tuesday when we finally get another episode and I can stop writing so much because of the hiatus! Haha!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Firstly, I wanted to apologize to all the Kabby fans. Someone (rightfully) pointed out that having the Kabby tag wasn’t great, seeing as it isn’t the most flattering of Abby. I did that because I was fully intending on creating a redemption arc and 100% didn’t even think of it that way. So if you started this and was disappointed or upset, I genuinely apologize. Kabby is out of the tags and hopefully out of any circulation you make be actively checking.
> 
> Secondly, while I don’t believe this episode is as bad as some of the stuff that I’ve read, but it still wasn’t my favorite this season. Because of this? Here, have Chapter 6. It’s Angst with a capital A.
> 
> Also, when are Clarke and Raven going to reunite, like FOR REAL. I need it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 6

_Bellamy_

 

Watching the ship land in Polis makes Bellamy quiver, mainly because everyone he loves is _so close_ and there’s nothing he can do about it. He and Echo share a glance as they jolt to their feet, the wind from the ship whirling around them like a tornado to destroy them all. He calls out to Clarke, but she’s already got her arms around Madi’s head as if she can shield her from the army ahead.

 

The fact that Madi exists makes everything more perilous. Bellamy thinks of all the children they’ve lost over the years, all of the younger members of the 100 who have died under his watch. Charlotte still stings when he thinks of her and her haunted expression. He tries not to think of it too much, but every once and a while she sneaks into his thoughts and nightmares. He sees Charlotte’s innocence in Madi and he wonders how long it’ll take to destroy as well.

 

“Everyone, take cover!” He shouts, putting his hands around Echo as they stumble in the wind. “If they come out blazing, we need to be able to get away!” He shouts but his words are eaten by the monster of the space ship.

 

The door is creaking down until it slams against the ground. “Bellamy, what do we do!” Monty cries from behind him, his arms clutching Harper.

 

Bellamy can’t answer. Because he isn’t sure _what_ is the answer. They’re all like sitting ducks, surrounded by the ruins of Polis, with nowhere to run. Even the rover had been destroyed in the bombing. “I-I—” he starts, but he isn’t able to complete the sentence. How is it ending like this? After everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve survived, how can it end so quickly.

 

A person makes his way down the walkway of the ship and he sees Clarke freeze. Her arms stiffen around Madi and she shouts something, but it’s lost in the winds of the world. Then, before he has any time to run and make sure she’s alright, she’s hobbling over to where they are. He tries to push down the strong instinct to make sure she’s okay. Despite everything she says, he knows the trials from the valley are still painful and fresh. If he could, he’s chain her to a bed t make sure she rests, but he’s known from experience what would happen if he tells _Clarke Griffin_ to take a break when there’s danger.

 

And maybe Clarke isn’t his to protect anymore. He sees the way she avoids his gaze, sees the way that when he tries to catch her eye, she glances to the ground. A few times since he’s known she’s alive, he’s wondered what would’ve happened if she made it back to the shuttle in time. Would they have the chance he thought about, far too often for comfort? Would they have fallen once all danger had passed or would they no longer have a need for each other?

 

Bellamy knows the answer.

 

There’s no way he wouldn’t need Clarke Griffin in his life, even if she was there as a memory. She’s buried her way into his chest, taking up residence there with his permission, and demanding he love her when all he wanted to do was push her away.

 

Then when she died…

 

He didn’t know what it was like to feel empty, and he wished he didn’t now. Even though she’s back, she’s not fully back, he’s not fully back, like the puzzle pieces of one another no longer new how to fit. As long as his hand fits in Echo’s, it will never fit in Clarkes.

 

He knows this.

 

What he doesn’t know is what to do.

 

“Clarke!” He shouts, sprinting toward her as she moves up the ramp. Then, before he can even shout at her to get away, she lunges toward the person making his way down the steps and throws her arms around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It startles him so much he can’t help but wince at the pang of – no, not jealousy, it can’t be jealousy – _something_. It’d been too long since she was so open with him. As soon as Spacekru landed, he watched as she built one wall up after another, until she was no more.

 

Wonkru soldiers sprint out, weapons drawn and pointed at the two of them. Bellamy has to keep himself from walking up to the closest on, grabbing their weapon, and elbowing them in the face, but remains as close to the army as he can.

 

“Stop!” Clarke shouts, bringing her hands up once she realizes there is an entire army trained on them. The stranger puts his hands up, eyes wide when the realization hit him. “He is not the enemy!”

 

Clarke wraps and arm around him and leads him down the path, whispering in his ear. It doesn’t seem to do much to quell his understandable fears, his eyes whipping from one gun to another.

 

Before Bellamy can do so much as step in front, Octavia marches past him, her sword drawn. “Who is this?” She demands, stalking closer like an animal waiting for its prey. “And why do you welcome him here?” She snaps at Clarke.

 

Clarke moves in front of the man, her hands up as submissive as possible. “Octavia, he is an ally.” She starts. “He’s the one who delayed the missile launch in the desert. He’s the only reason any of us are alive.”

 

This doesn’t seem to soften Octavia’s resolve. “He’s one of them!” She shouts, gesturing her sword in his direction. “He should be executed as he stands!”

 

“Octavia, please!” Clarke says. “He saved you. He saved me! He saved everyone that was in the desert that night. He is not an enemy. He is not one of them!”

 

“Wait, she’s right.” Raven pushes past Bellamy and he wonders how his nightmare could’ve grown so quickly. She puts herself in front of Octavia. “He helped Murphy and I when Diyoza’s crew went to the space station. He helped everyone.”

 

Bellamy steps up next to Octavia, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She whips in his direction, her sword nearly taking off a piece of his ear. It says a lot to his demeanor that he doesn’t plaster himself onto the ground in that moment, quivering when the blade is near his throat. “O, please.” He says. “Hear them out.”

 

“He is an enemy of Wonkru.” She seethes.

 

“If he’s here to help, he has information none of us have. It doesn’t make sense to execute him.”

 

She grips her sword and he can tell she’s fighting within herself. He can see the war in her eyes and it gives him hope. In that flash, he can see Octavia for a brief moment, pleading for logic to prevail.

 

“Blodreina,” Indra steps to her side. “If he has information, we should allow him to stay. We need every advantage in this war we can get.”

 

Octavia grits her teeth, slowly sheathing her sword as she does so. Her hands tremble and clench into fists and he wonders if she’s still going to attack. The man on the ship only has eyes for her, waiting her judgment like he’s prepare to sprint back inside.

 

“We’ll see what information he has to give us.” Octavia snaps. “Then we’ll see just how valuable he is.”

 

Bellamy lets out a sharp breath, joining Raven as she jogs up to the ship where Clarke and the stranger are. Raven marches up, gives him a once over, and says, “Avoiding your own people again? You should consider getting new friends.”

 

The man lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, maybe. But from where I’m standing, I’m not sure who’s friendlier.”

 

Clarke gives his arm a squeeze and Bellamy tells himself that it is a natural thing to do when comforting someone. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” She smiles.

 

“ _We’ve_ got your back.” Bellamy corrects before he can really stop himself, trying not to be hurt by the surprise in Clarke’s expression when he does so. He reaches out. “Bellamy.”

 

The man takes his hand suspiciously. “Shaw.”

 

“Thank you, for saving our lives.” Bellamy says, proud of how calm his voice sounds.

 

Shaw shakes his head. “I can’t even take credit for that. It was 100% Raven’s plan.”

 

“All the best plans usually are.” Clarke grins, winking at Raven. Raven tilts her head back and laughs, reminding Bellamy for the millionth time what having Clarke on the Ark would’ve done. How easy it would’ve been for her to poke fun at him with Raven, how she could’ve gotten Murphy from his own part of the ship. How everything would’ve been slightly easier.

 

It’s like she’s the sea and he’s drowning in the depths of what could’ve been.

 

“Man, you look like crap.” Shaw says and Clarke laughs. Genuinely laughs in a way he’s only heard for Murphy and, well, him. He bristles and tells himself he’s being irrational. He hates it.

 

“What are you even doing here?” Clarke muses. “It’s dangerous.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’d be more dangerous for me to go back to the valley now.” Shaw sighs. “I heard over the radio what McCreary did. That he’s taken the camp over. I can’t go back there now, even if I wanted survivable land. It’s not survivable for me. I’ve already pointed a gun to his head.”

 

“Did I ever thank you for that?” Raven asks, her lips quirking up.

 

Shaw coughs. “Actually, you made me feel pretty bad about—”

 

“Good.” Raven states.

 

Clarke tries to conceal a smile and fails.

 

“And, it was suspicious, you know?” He continues after flushing slightly red at Raven’s comments.

 

“Suspicious?” Bellamy repeats.

 

Shaw nods. “The day after Clarke is in the valley, suddenly there’s a dire need for a space supply run after I protected her friends? That doesn’t seem suspicious to you?”

 

“When he told me he sent you to space, I really thought I was out of luck.” Clarke admits.

 

Shaw frowns. “What did he do to you?”

 

“Oh you know, tightened the collar enough so I couldn’t talk.”

 

Shaw’s eyes widened. “And the rest of you spontaneously combusted?”

 

“I had to get back here somehow.” Clarke coughs. “Some of your people are a little more… violent than others.”

 

“You are a crazy boss and I kinda love it.” Shaw says, shaking his head. “Although please stop because ‘m growing rather attached to you and you have the worst self-preservation skills I have ever seen.”

 

“A-fucking-men.” Murphy says, placing an arm on Bellamy’s shoulder. For some reason, it relaxes him when he does so, and Bellamy is more aware that he’s surrounded by his family.

 

With a calming breath, Bellamy says, “I hope you get used to disappointment because that’ll go through one ear and out the other with this one.”

 

Clarke throws him a nasty look.

 

“What? You’re just… Clarke.”

 

She locks eyes with him and he can see it. He sees a glimpse of what the Ark would’ve been like.

 

It would’ve been easy, loving Clarke. Because falling in love with her was the easiest thing he ever did. The hardest thing was telling himself he wasn’t in love with her, finding reasons to stay away. The hardest thing was standing next to her and telling himself that he only cared for her because she was his partner – without her, the weight of all their decisions would solely be on him.

 

But giving into it? It would’ve been as easy as breathing. He wouldn’t have even thought about it, it would’ve simply… became.

 

“If your leader still wants to murder me, I can offer supplies.” Shaw coughs, awkwardly watching the exchange between he and Clarke. “Because I did actually get some from the space station. Just be warned – there are two very dead guards on the ship. We should probably move them before they start to smell.”

 

“Were the guards dead or alive before you went to space?” Murphy asks.

 

Shaw bites his lips. “Here’s the thing. They weren’t super thrilled I changed our course and it turns out that they were sent specifically to babysit me so I wouldn’t interfere, so I think we should all take this information into account before you judge me.”

 

Murphy snorts. Clapping Shaw on the back, he moves up the ramp. “I think I like you.” He states, walking backwards so he can give Shaw a thumbs up. “Also, dibs on all protein.”

 

Monty’s eyes widen and he chases after Monty. “Hey! You have to share, you’re not living on your own on the Ark anymore!”

 

“Basic shotgun rules, Monty!”

 

“Murphy, get back here—”

 

Bellamy chuckles as he tilts his head toward the ship. “If no one watches them, there will be a fight.”

 

Raven snorts. “About time. It’s been so boring on the ground.”

 

***

 

It doesn’t take long for Octavia to turn the control center into a war station, everyone around it. Bellamy’s been in too many war councils and for some reason it’s still as uncomfortable as the first one. He came to earth, guns blazing with the mantra of _whatever the hell we want_ , and has tried to make up for it ever since. He glances across the table and sees Clarke, her jaw set and arms tense, as if she’s thinking the same thing as he is at the same moment.

 

He catches her eye and tries to let the relief wash over him that he’s not alone. She gives him a half smile and he wants to comfort her too, but isn’t sure how to do it when he can’t be comforted himself.

 

“With the last bombing, McCreary used the last of his arsenal.” Shaw is saying pointing at the map strewn on the table. Clarke had put together something quickly and Bellamy couldn’t help but be impressed at how swift her movements were. It reminds him that she was here by herself and in Clarke fashion, plotted everything with excruciating detail, even moreso than the one sketchbook he had. “Unless he can make more – which he would only be able to do if he had this ship, there shouldn’t be anymore aerial attacks. Which means it’s going to come down to a foot fight.”

 

Octavia nods. “That’s Wonkru’s specialty.”

 

“With all do respect,” Shaw starts and Bellamy tries to communicate with looks that whatever is the end of that sentence will not end well for him. “The technology we have is far greater than what I’ve seen. The blasters alone could decimate half the population here if desired.”

 

Before Octavia can say anything, Raven cuts in, eyeing Bellamy worriedly. “From what Shaw has explained and what Clarke and Madi have experienced, it looks like the weapons are drawn through solar radiation, similar to how the rover was set up.”

 

“What does that mean, Raven?” Bellamy asks. “Reminder that we all don’t have your brain.”

 

Raven preens. “Of course you don’t, if everyone had it, the world would be far more dangerous.”

 

Murphy lifts an eyebrow. “More dangerous than something that has already been destroyed? Twice?”

 

“Shut up, Murphy.” Raven says. “It means they draw their power from the sun. Which means if we can draw their fire towards us and not gain any casualties, they have to recharge. Which means we could attack once the power was drained.”

 

“Except you’re talking multiple hits from them.” Shaw says, putting his hands up. It’s clear Raven’s not used to people challenging her plan because she stares at him incredulously without retort. “Which means you’ll have to create a controlled environment where there are no civilians and useless land.”

 

“What would your idea be, then?” Raven snaps. “Let them rain down on Polis and we hope someone survives?”

 

“Obviously not, but—”

 

“Okay, you two, shut up.” Octavia shouts.

 

Indra clears her throat. “Perhaps the two of you can come up with a solution together after this meeting is concluded. I doubt we all need to be present for… whatever that is.”

 

“Sexual tension.” Bellamy hears Harper whisper to Monty and he stifles a laugh.

 

“The main issue is, we can’t hear anything they’re talking about because _someone_ shot the radio feed.” Raven continues, throwing Shaw a nasty look.

 

Shaw looks mortally offended. “Excuse me? You try _landing a space ship_ while simultaneously being shot at.”

 

“You try landing a space ship that was scavenged from parts from something that hadn’t returned to earth in a hundred years!”

 

“Oh my god, there’s two of them.” Murphy states, horrified.

 

Bellamy puts his hands up. “Raven, what does that _mean_?”

 

Raven stops her next argument. “It means if we could hear what was going on in their camp, we could gain intel that could help us once we draw their blaster power out. But since Shaw shot it—”

 

“Again, saving my own life and yours, not that I’ve received a thank you or anything—”

 

“—we can’t use it.”

 

Octavia frowns. “Can you fix it?”

 

Snorting, Raven says, “Of course I can fix it.”

 

Shaw’s mouth opens. “Are you kidding me? You’re standing there, giving me a hard time, when you can easily fix something?”

 

“I never used the words ‘easily.’ It’s only easily because I’m awesome.”

 

“Raven…” Bellamy warns when he sees Octavia’s patience slipping.

 

Raven sighs. “Give me a few hours. I need something to test that it’s rolling, but I should probably be able to get it up.”

 

“Why do you need something to test to see if it’s rolling? Shouldn’t we be able to just hear?” Bellamy asks.

 

“She doesn’t want to let them know we’re listening.” Monty offers. “If she just turns it on and it send a feedback signal, they’ll know we have access to everything.”

 

Raven grins. “Exactly.”

 

Frowning, Bellamy reaches in his pocket. His fingers wrap around the tape, the only thing that survived the Polis bombing. He considers keeping it, considers not telling anyone. He isn’t sure what’s on here – probably just the last conversation he held with Octavia, which should be harmless enough. If anything, it may wake Octavia up.

 

“What about this?” Bellamy offers, reaching out to give Raven the tape. “Would something like this work?”  


Raven takes it from him, examining it. “Actually, yeah. This is perfect. Where did you find this?”

 

Bellamy peers at Clarke, who’s looking at the tape peculiarly. She tilts her head, but then shakes it. “I found it in Polis.” He says. It’s not technically a lie, but for some reason he doesn’t want to say where he got it out loud.

 

Raven seems to accept this. “Cool. I’ll use this as a test.”

 

Octavia’s attention is focused elsewhere. He can see her tuning out, as she always did when it came to tech talk, which Bellamy finds a little comforting. Or, at least he would, until he sees her fixation is on Clarke, who’s staring at the map like it offended her in some way. “You’re awfully quiet.” Octavia states, her focus lasered in her direction. “That’s so unlike you.”

 

The hair on Bellamy’s arm stands as she says this. He knows that tone. That’s the tone when Octavia’s going for the killstrike. The tone when she’s ready to end a life.

 

Clarke doesn’t give her the attention she’s clearly looking for. Instead, she turns her head to the floor. “It’s nothing.”

 

Then the focus heightens. “Clarke, we had a deal.”

 

She looks up at that. Bellamy frowns because he thinks he sees tears in her eyes, but he can’t imagine why. “It’s nothing.”

 

Octavia’s head tilts. “That’s not nothing, Clarke. We had a deal.” She repeats. “Miller’s life for your cooperation, remember? Would you like me to get him and retract my end of the bargain?”

 

“O, come on—”

 

“No, brother.” Octavia states. “This is on Clarke. What is going on in that head of yours?”

 

Clarke’s lip trembles. “They’re all sick.” She says, her voice wavering, but strong. “They have cancer.”

 

“So?”

 

Clarke takes a shaky breath. “Cancer is exacerbated by radiation.”

 

Bellamy almost gasps, but through sheer force, he manages to keep it in. Octavia frowns. “Radiation?”

 

“Oh my god,” Monty breathes. “Like Mt. Weather.”

 

Clarke bows her head. “It’s a bad idea.” She stumbles over her words. “We can’t blow up the last livable piece of land on earth. We can’t douse it with radiation to make them sicker, it’ll be harmful for the environment—”

 

“Except they’re already sick.” Octavia muses. “Which means we don’t need a large amount of radiation, just enough to make them weak enough to take over.”

 

Clarke closes her eyes and tears fall. “Like I said, it’s a bad—”

 

“No, Clarke. It’s a great idea.” Octavia says. “It’s like when you burned three hundred grounders alive with the fuel from the ship. Or when you eradicated three hundred people from Mt. Weather with a flip of a switch.” She laughs, hollow and vicious. “You have a gift of killing people off in large numbers, Clarke Griffin.”

 

When Clarke turns to Octavia, her eyes are red. “I do not relish in the idea of ending these people.”

 

“See, that’s your problem, Clarke.” Octavia states. “That’s why you will always be a sub-par leader. You make touch decisions and then you let them bury you.”

 

“Octavia—”

 

“It’s _Blodreina,_ Clarke.” Octavia says over her.

 

Clarke takes a breath. “Blodreina, it’s not safe. If we damage that land—”

 

“Raven.” Octavia states. “Monty. Would we be able to construct devices to emit waves of radiation to the Eligius crew that isn’t harmful to the environment?”

 

Both Raven and Monty cast a glance at Bellamy. “We wouldn’t know the impact it would have on the environment—” Monty begins.

 

“I didn’t ask for an environmental impact study.” Octavia states. “What I asked is if it’s possible.”

 

Monty hesitates. His eyes are on the ground and Bellamy knows he’s reliving Mt. Weather too. He was in that room with Clarke and Bellamy, he was the one who programmed the machines. It may have been Clarke’s final call, but it was he who made it happen. “Yes.” He states.

 

“Good.” Octavia says. “And now we have a job for Monty.”

 

Bellamy moves closer to his sister. “Octavia, we need to be careful. Both of us think that valley is ours and if we have a war, there isn’t going to be anything survivable left.”

 

Octavia grins, curling on her face like a death wish. “Thanks to Clarke, we may not have to worry about it.” Octavia turns to leave the ship. “I should’ve known to go straight to Clarke for mass murder.” Bellamy winces at the words, but Clarke doesn’t reveal anything. She merely keeps her hands on the table and eyes shut. “Everyone get to work. Indra – inventory the supplies. We’ll start rationing them out as soon as everything’s accounted for.”

 

She stalks out.

 

Shaw leans into Clarke and whispers loudly, “Should I tell her I brought extra guns, or is that a bad idea? I want to know if I’m reading the room wrong.”

 

Clarke sighs, pressing her head against the war table.

 

Bellamy snaps. “O, wait!” He exclaims, chasing after her.

 

He runs out of the ship, as Octavia makes her way down the ramp, Wonkru littering the streets. “Octavia, hold on!”

 

Before he can reach her, she unsheathes her sword and swings it at his head, only stopping right before his neck. “I’m only going to say this one more time, brother. Either you are a part of Wonkru or you’re an enemy of Wonkru. Choose.”

 

“Octavia, I’m just…” Bellamy can’t think of the words. There’s so many things he wants to say to her, so many things that he _should_ say, but all he ends up saying is, “I missed you so much in these past six years and for some reason, I’m still _missing_ you. O, what happened? What is going on?”

 

Octavia’s jaw clenches. There it is again – the flash of the young girl who stepped inside the bunker. Scared, longing, broken. Blodreina shoves her down and her expression is stony. “My family is Wonkru now. You are more than welcome to be a part of that.”

 

“Octavia, please. We _are_ family. We’ve been through so much together. Please, let me be here for you. Let me help you.”

 

“Help me?” Octavia repeats. “Help me? You were the one who didn’t make it to the bunker in time. You were the one who spent six years in space with six other people. I had twelve hundred people, Bellamy. Twelve hundred warring people who had to live underground for six years. You can’t help what you don’t understand—”

 

“Then make me understand!” Bellamy shouts, grabbing her arm before she can run away. Octavia looks like she’s about to swipe her sword across his fingers in an instant, but restrains herself. “I want to be here, O. I want to understand. But I need your help. Please. Help me understand.”

 

For a moment, he thinks he’s gotten through to her. Her sword lowers and her eyes grow soft. For a moment, she looks like the girl who marveled at the butterflies and screamed when she first stepped foot on the ground. She looks like the girl he gave piggybacks to and fought going under the floor.

 

She looks like his sister.

 

Then she’s gone. “Only if you’re Wonkru.”

 

Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she marches away. Bellamy resists the urge to call after her, to make her understand, but he knows it won’t help. When Indra passes him, she casts him a sorrowed glance, confirming what he already suspected: perhaps she’s too far gone. Maybe there was no choice.

 

Wiping under his eyes, Bellamy sprints back up to the ship.

 

When he goes back into the war room, he’s greeted to the sound of metal clanging and squabbling from Raven and Shaw. Every move is questioned by the other and it’s so loud, Bellamy considers wandering around to get away from it all.

 

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, now that he’s lost Octavia. That’s what it feels like, like he’s _lost her_ and there’s no getting her back.

 

Instead, he finds Clarke sitting on the ground in the corner of the room, her head leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He goes and sits next to her, knock his knee against hers. “How are you holding up?”

 

Clarke opens her eyes to the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 

“It was the only choice, Clarke.” Bellamy states. “Octavia knew you had a plan.”

 

“Only choice.” She grins, her words ghosts from his past. “An oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

 

“Shockingly, no one else found word play as much fun on the Ring as you do.” He chuckles.

 

“Yes, my interests are teasingly diverse.”

 

He laughs. “It’ll be okay, Clarke. We’ll figure this one out, just like we figure everything out.”

 

“What if we don’t, Bellamy?” she whispers. “One of these times, we’re not going to figure it out. It’ll be… over.”

 

Bellamy mulls this over. It’s something he’s feared many times, replaying the past seven years over and over. “Maybe,” he states. “We have to try though.”

 

Clarke turns her head. “Everyone thought they were right. The Grounders, Mt. Weather. Everyone thought they were doing what was best.”

 

“I know,” he states, his voice husky. “We’ve all done things we shouldn’t be forgiven for. But we have to forgive each other.”

 

“Why?”

 

He shrugs. “How else would we go on?”

 

She seems to accept this, laying her head on his shoulder. He tries not to think how comfortable this is, how easy it is. “I’m so tired, Bellamy.” She says honestly. “I’m so tired of fighting.”

 

“Me too.” He admits. “Maybe, one day it’ll be over. Maybe one day—”

 

_“Raven!”_

 

A voice calls out over the speaks in the ship and both Bellamy and Clarke leap up, startled. “Oh my god, it works!” Shaw exclaims, nearly falling over at the volume of the recording.

 

_“Please say you can hear me. Something went wrong, I-I did everything you said, but it won’t—”_

 

Bellamy freezes. He turns because that’s _Clarke’s_ voice. She sounds so panicked, so desperate. When he faces her, she’s gone pale, her eyes wide. “No,” he hears her breathe.

 

_“Raven… Bellamy… if you can hear me… don’t wait.”_

 

He hears her panting, the fear in her voice. Suddenly it’s six years ago, and the world’s ending.

 

Whose to say the world isn’t ending now?

 

The tape clicks.

 

_“Hey, it’s me again Bellamy. Day 42. Where was I? Oh right, Polis. Up until that moment, I believed I would live in the bunker with the others. With my mom. I can’t bare the thought of leaving her down there, but the hard truth is, I could dig for years and never reach that door. I guess I really am alone, aren’t I?”_

Click.

_“Bellamy, it’s Clarke. I’ve been by myself now for two months, but this is the first time I feel alone.”_

Click.

Bellamy hears the ache in her voice. The pain. Everything he thought, everything he didn’t want to be right about, is there.

 

Clarke was alone.

 

 _Is_ alone.

_“Hi Bellamy. I’ve made it back to the Ark. It’s like we were never here. Maybe we never should’ve been.”_

Click.

_“Bellamy, how the hell am I going to make it five years?”_

Click.

_“Bellamy, I came to Arkadia looking for food or water. But all I found were ghosts.”_

Click.

Bellamy knows the ghosts. He sees them in her eyes when she thinks no one’s looking. He sees them in himself.

_“Hey Bellamy. Part of me thinks Jasper had the right idea. What’s the point if all there is, is pain and suffering.”_

Bellamy stares at her. Stares at the woman he thought was dead. The woman who wanted to be dead and never told a soul.

 

He was on the Ring and she was on the ground. Always orbiting, but never in sync. Nausea hits him like  force and he shudders from the weight of it. From the weight of _all_ of it.

 

_“Real cheerful, Clarke. Sorry. Ignore me, okay? I haven’t had water in two days.”_

He wants to say he can’t ignore her – he would _never_ ignore her, but words are failing him now.

 

_“I need to find some soon, or I don’t think I’m gonna… Anyway. I doubt you can hear me on this piece of crap radio…”_

 

“Turn it off.” Clarke says, her voice low and scratchy. Bellamy barely hears her and no one moves to do as she says.

 

_“I just want to say… Please don’t feel bad about leaving me here. You did what you had to do. I’m proud of you, Bellamy.”_

“Turn it off.” Clarke demands louder, her words cracking with every syllable. She looks like a wild animal, caught in a trap again, desperate to get out. “Turn it off, turn it off!” She cries, rushing over to the radio and pressing any button she can get her hand on until the tape pops out.

 

Pressing a hand over her mouth, Clarke breathes. Bellamy can hear the stifled crying from here, but he can’t move.

 

No one can.

 

“Y-You called us?” Monty asks gently, taking one step closer to her.

 

She immediately takes one back.

 

“Not us,” Raven states.

 

Everyone looks at Bellamy.

 

With her hand covering her mouth and the tape in her hands, she sprints from the space ship, the echoes of her footsteps resounding in shuttle.

 

Bellamy didn’t realize it, but he’s holding his breath. His chest heaves and he thinks he might be sick. “She called Bellamy in the beginning?” Echo asks softly, her words dangerously even.

 

Raven shakes her head. “That tape held hours of content. We only heard a few minutes.” Bowing her head, she continues, “I don’t think it was just the beginning.”

 

Now Bellamy knows he’s going to be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The radio reveal! I know this isn’t how it’ll be on the show – it’ll be a conversation or something – but I really liked the idea of them hearing it you know? More dramatic and painful…
> 
> And since this episode tonight was a little more about setting up future plot (which I think was my main issue with it), I wanted to give you guys some Bellarke to tide you over. Also, I loved writing Raven x Shaw. There's just too many things to write! This is getting WAY longer than I originally anticipated, and there's still a long way to go, to be honest! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke deals with the aftermath of the tapes, getting help from an unlikely source and a conversation with an unwelcome visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone’s ready for a bit of an angsty chapter!
> 
> I had a few people ask for more reaction to the tapes, which makes Clarke’s POV… problematic. So I’m approaching it in (hopefully) a creative way. The issue is, due to the plot, the next 4 chapters are very specifically planned out for Clarke, Bellamy, Clarke, Bellamy. I’m really excited for you to read them – almost as excited as I am to write them!
> 
> And if anyone’s curious, I’d say there’s about 6-8 chapters left. I hope I haven’t lost you guys with the length! I never really expected this to be so long, but I’ve just enjoyed writing it so much! Here we go!
> 
> Also, as you’ll notice, I really think Murphy has the mouth. He and Raven, for sure. I hope you don’t mind the occasional (or stream) of curse words.

CHAPTER 7

_Clarke_

 

All she can hear is her footsteps.

 

It’s only because with every beat on the ground, she feels a sharp wince of pain that makes Clarke want to collapse, but by sheer force of will, she stumbles out to the ground. Every step plays the words over and over again like a haunting rhythm. _Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy_. Words she would’ve been happy to bury with her, words she never wanted to relive.

 

She can’t breathe, she can’t see, she can’t think.

 

Everything is vibrating a bit off it’s axis and Clarke feels like she’s stuck in the collar again, tightened so much every breath is a sprint. She claws at her throat, convinced that there’s metal wrapped around it, but finds nothing but raw flesh, still aching from the torment only days again. Even when she rakes her nails down it and they come back spotted with black, she feels nothing.

 

So she panics, her legs turning to jello underneath her. She needs to find a place to curl up and hide – anyplace that isn’t surrounded by people.

 

It hits Clarke not for the first time that she’s too overwhelmed by the amount of people around her. She went from Madi to an entire civilization – an entire warring civilization – and everything is too loud. She feels their eyes on her and it spirals her more, as if their judgment lies on top of her like a film, dragging her down further.

 

Suddenly, a pair of hands wrap themselves on her shoulders and lead her away from the middle of Polis, Clarke’s feet tripping over themselves as she tries to follow, but her vision is too spotty for her to direct herself. “Shit, okay, shit,” the person curses next to her, their voice distant and low. She strains to try and hold onto their voice, but it is flying away from her.

 

Everything left her, in the end.

 

“Shit, okay. I’m pretty sure you’re having a panic attack. I gotta do something super painful to you since you just got the shit kicked out of you. I’m so sorry.”

 

Before Clarke can even consider asking what they’re talking about, they wrap their arms around her, pinning her arms at her side, their chest pressed against her back. Her ribs scream in agony and then she’s panting, weeping, almost shouting every expletive that comes to mind.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the person repeats again and again as she cries.

 

Except something happens. The pain grounds her to this world and she dangles there, her feet barely grazing the ground as the person holds her tightly. Without even knowing who it is, for some reason she trusts them, trusts them to hold her. For a brief, tantalizing moment, she’s free.

 

Once she’s caught her breath and the pain from her ribs is greater than not being able to breathe, she stands on her own feet. “I think I’m okay now.” She wheezes, but she doesn’t let go of the person. Instead she holds their forearms, holding them now, desperate to keep contact, to keep _feeling_ someone around her. Leaning back into their chest, Clarke sucks in a breath.

 

To their credit, they don’t let go, they simply loosen their hold and rest on her stomach. She holds them there for far too long, telling herself she has to let them go. When she breaks free from their hold and turns around, she gapes. “Murphy?” She asks.

 

Murphy’s eyes are wide, slightly terrified, but he recovers quickly. “Don’t be so surprised, Princess. Us scavengers have feelings too.”

 

He leads her over to where some rubble collapsed on top of each other, helping her to sit while she winces. “Sorry,” he breathes, flinching with her. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

“No, that was quick thinking,” Clarke assures, grateful. “How did you know what to do?”

 

Murphy makes a face and scratches the back of his neck, their eye contact falling. “Uh, when my dad was floated, my mom had panic attacks pretty regularly before she got addicted to drugs. I had to help her out. Actually, your mom was the one who gave me the pointers. When I was younger.” Clarke stares at him like she’s never seen him before. She always assumed she was the queen of building walls, but she realizes it’s because his has been up every time she spoke with them. “Somehow we’re all connected.”

 

“We lived on a floating ring in the sky, there was bound to be some crossover.” Clarke wheezes. Putting her head in her hands, she takes a deep breath. “Oh my goodness, that actually happened.”

 

“Yeah. You’re having a shitty couple weeks.”

 

“Murphy,” Clarke chuckles, making her cough a few times. She looks up to the sky, focusing on the way the sun is changing the sky colors. Ever since the radiation, sunsets are breathtaking. It’s as if the earth gives back a little, as a peace offering for the awful things it threw on all of them.

 

“Yeah.” He sighs.

 

Wiping under her nose, Clarke hangs her head. “What am I going to do?”

 

“You could consider changing your name and moving.” Murphy offers, nudging his shoulder again hers. “Or you could shave your head. You already cut all your hair off, so there’s not much else you could do.”

 

Clarke groans. “Murphy, come on. There’s no way I can just pretend that didn’t happen.”

 

Murphy grows quiet. His usual impish grin is gone and he peeks at her. “Are you okay? Clarke?”

 

Blinking a few times, Clarke tries to tell herself she isn’t crying. She’s cried so _much_ in the past couple weeks it’s almost embarrassing. But after spending years pouring her heart to a radio, she can’t handle seeing everyone in front her, demanding pieces of her she wasn’t even sure are left. “I don’t know.” She answers honestly, linking her fingers together and shaking her head. With a heaving breath she says, “He got me through it, you know?”

 

She doesn’t realize she needed to admit it until she does. But when she says it out loud and someone _hears it_ , actually hears the words she’s saying, it feels like a weight shifts in her chest and she can breathe just a little bit better. Her lip trembles as she thinks of all the nights she spent, radio in hand, desperately willing for Bellamy to hear her. Feel her. Feel her begging for him to return to her. Now that he has?

 

She’s never felt more alone.

 

“I love him,” Clarke admits and she can hear Murphy huff next to her, as if to say, ‘Obviously.’ Perhaps it is obvious. But she’s never said the words, said the ‘love’ word to anyone. If anything, she shoved it down inside, demanding that it go away. Because if there’s one thing Clarke knows, it’s that people she loves don’t make it.

 

They die.

 

Clarke wrings her hands for something to do. “I love him and I’ve never felt more apart from him. I thought that it would go away – it was supposed to _go away_ – but he’s…” She can’t find the words to describe it. She can’t figure out how to say that in her heart, there’s Bellamy. It’s permanent and overwhelming. She vowed to never be consumed by a person, but here he is consuming her and she knows she won’t survive if he leaves again.

 

After a few tense moment, Murphy places his arm around her. “Okay, I’m about to do something uncharacteristic, so I need you to not look at me.”

 

So of course, Clarke looks at him.

 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m going to be serious and I can’t do it if you’re look at me with Bambi eyes, okay?”

 

With a snort, Clarke returns her gaze to her hands. To be honest, it’s easier.

 

“Listen. We only heard part of that tape. But from what it sounds like, your time on earth wasn’t a frickin’ walk in the park. It sounded like it blew—”

 

“Only in the beginning—”

 

“No Clarke.” Murphy cuts her off. “It sucked. And you’re allowed to say it sucked because Madi isn’t here so she won’t feel bad and Bellamy isn’t here, so he won’t give you that wounded puppy expression. It’s just me. It fucking sucked.”

 

Clarke can’t help but laugh. “It so fucking sucked.”

 

He pumps his fist in the air. “I got the Princess to swear! Go me. Best achievement I’ve had in six years.”

 

“I find that severely hard to believe.”

 

“Six years is a long time, Clarke.” Murphy says quietly. “Things change.”

 

“Yeah,” she agrees. “They do.”

 

He takes a breath. “What I mean to say is, you’re allowed to be angry. Be fucking angry. This is a shitty situation. Be angry. Cry. Cry as much as you want. Scream if you want to. Scream and yell and cry and be angry. But you’re Clarke fucking Griffin.” He says with a wry smile. “Be angry. Cry. Scream. The only thing you’re not allowed to do is give up.”

 

Clarke can’t help it, but a sob escapes her lips. She allows it because it’s Murphy and for some reason, that feels safe with him. His hand tightens around her shoulder and she can’t help but lean onto his, relieved that for a small moment in time, she can simply _be_ with someone. Not worry about their life, not worry about their safety. Not worry about her feelings or what she’s going to do. She can just be… Clarke.

 

“Are you okay, Murphy?” She asks after a while, as the two watch the sun set behind the clouds.

 

Murphy chuckles. “As good as anyone.”

 

“Seriously, Murphy. Don’t think I didn’t notice the tension between you and Emori. What happened to you two?”

 

“Are you seriously asking me about my love life? Right now?”

 

Clarke shakes him. “Come on, you just watched my love life simultaneously combust in front of a live audience and I haven’t even felt the touch of a man – or woman – in six years. Help a sister out.”

 

“If you’re sexually frustrated, you know I’m always here to be a good friend—”

 

“That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

 

“Yeah, as soon as I offered it, I felt dirty. Besides, I’m pretty sure Bellamy would finally do the job and kill me.”

 

“Let’s avoid all the topics listed in that sentence.”

 

Murphy laughs, scrubbing his neck again. “Ah, I screwed it up. I’ve never been a team player, you know?”

 

“Vividly.”

 

“Now I know why you told Madi I’m the funny one, but she didn’t agree. You have a dark side, Clarke Griffin.” His smile falters. “Emori… she… she never got to even pretend to be a part of a team. And when she had everyone else, it’s like – it’s like she didn’t need me anymore.”

 

Clarke reaches out, grabbing his free hand. “Love isn’t supposed to be all consuming, Murphy. Just because she’s a part of the team, doesn’t mean you’re not.”

 

He bows his head. “I’m not, though, Clarke.” He says, shaking his head. “I’ve never been a part of that team. Come on, you know the history. You know the history of everything. I was never made for it.” The sorrow in his face only lasts for a moment. A brief, shining moment when Clarke sees Murphy, really _sees_ Murphy. Then it’s gone and the walls are up again. “Anyways, I’m already on a team.”

 

Clarke makes a face. “You are?”

 

“Team Cockroach.” He says, putting his fist out. “We gotta stick together, right?”

 

With a laugh, she returns it. “Team Cockroach.”

 

Before she can realize what’s happening, Murphy pulls her into a hug, holding her close, but gentle enough to not hurt her ribs too much. “I missed you, Clarke.” He says softly. “I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“Me too, Murphy. I’m proud to be a part of the team.”

 

He releases her, with a grin. “So, what are you going to do?”

 

Clarke lifts her eyes to the sky. “Honestly? I have no idea.” She admits. “But I can’t handle it tonight. I just want to go see Madi, make sure she’s alright and go to bed.”

 

Murphy snorts. “Then do it. I’ll make sure none of them bother you.”

 

“Oh, I believe it.” Clarke laughs.

 

She peers at the tape in her hand, that she’d been holding so tightly, she’s surprised it hasn’t broken in half. She sighs, flipping it in her fingers.

 

Everything is there. Every word. Every plea. Every broken thought.

 

All to Bellamy.

 

“Here.” She states, handing it to Murphy.

 

“You want me to destroy it?”

 

“No,” Clarke shakes her head. “Listen to it. All of you. Or don’t, it’s your decision.”

 

Murphy frowns, taking it from her grasp. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” Clarke sighs. “Yes, please listen to it. It’s not all bad. Actually, at times it’s wonderful. I-I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t pretend you all didn’t hear some of my lowest moments in the past six years. So listen to all of them.”

 

Murphy nods. “Will do. I’m sure they’re all in the ship, still talking about you.”

 

“Comforting.” Clarke says. “Just… make sure no one bothers me tonight. I need to… I need to be alone.”

 

Murphy quirks a grin. “You had six years of being alone. Wasn’t that enough?”

 

“I wasn’t really alone.” Clarke says, nodding at the tape. “I think I finally need to be. Because that’s reality.”

 

Murphy stands, helping Clarke to her feet. “Team Cockroach all the way, baby.”

 

Clarke can’t help but laugh, even as she feels her insides crumbling. “Team Cockroach all the way.”

 

***

 

 

 

The evening is quiet, as Murphy promised. Clarke can’t sleep, even though she knows her body is exhausted, her _mind_ is _exhausted_. Every part of her hurts and aches.

 

And yet, sleep is nothing more than an idea she can’t catch.

 

So she runs her fingers through Madi’s hair, watching her sleep peacefully. How did it come to this? All she thought about for the past six years was keeping this child alive… and getting Bellamy back. Now both things were blowing up in her face and she couldn’t figure out what to do to stop either. So she watches Madi sleep and reminds herself that she can save who she can save today.

 

She startles when she hears the tent flap open. Freezing, Clarke closes her eyes and pretends she’s asleep. The person steps in the tent, closer and closer. Clarke tries not to tense, but they are so close to her.

 

“Clarke. I know you’re awake.”

 

Clarke sucks in a breath. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

 

Rolling to her side and standing, she says with a wavering voice, “Mom?”

 

Abby stands before her, holding her hands close to her chest, apprehension radiating off of every part of her. “Clarke,” she says quietly, moving closer to her. Clarke wants to run, be anywhere but here, but Madi’s sleeping. Every day Wonkru and Spacekru have resurfaced, she’s felt trapped in a way she doesn’t understand. Everyone is so different, everyone is looking at her like she’s the same.

 

Except she’s not the same. Nothing changes you like the end of the world.

 

“I heard the tape.” Abby states, finally looking Clarke in the eyes. Clarke sucks in a breath. “Raven dragged me out of bed to say I needed to hear it. All of it. And I did.” Tears well in her eyes and she whispers, “I’m so sorry, Clarke. I’m so…” her words falter and break, taken by the quiet.

 

Clarke sniffs, trying to remain as stony as possible. But the steel in her veins was slowly taken away in Praimfaya. She never wanted to admit the past six years softened her, but they did. They took the survival at any cost mentality, they took away her friends, her family, and left nothing but something soft. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mom.” Clarke says. All she can see when she looks at her is her mother clutching the orange pill bottle as a collar was placed on her throat. “You… You aren’t the same person anymore.”

 

“Clarke, you have to understand.” Abby states, folding her hands together. “The bunker—”

 

“I was _by myself!_ ” Clarke shouts and she hears Madi stir behind her. There’s no way she can still be sleeping, but she’s pleased Madi’s pretending.

 

“I know,” Abby responds, her voice small. “You were all by yourself.”

 

“How could you…” Clarke says, her chest heaving. “How could you just give me away?”

 

Abby’s gaze crumbles to the floor. “I don’t know.” She admits, twisting her fingers around her wrists. “I can’t explain it. I don’t think you’ve understand what I’ve lost—”

 

“What _we’ve_ lost, Mom!” Clarke cries. “You lost your husband, I lost dad. You lost me, I lost you. The only difference is, you had Kane. You had Jaha. You had _everyone_ and I had _no one_!”

 

“Clarke, the bunker—”

 

Clarke puts her hands up. “I’m sorry Mom, but I can’t. I can’t listen to what I’m sure is a great reason. I can’t understand why you would do that.”

 

“Clarke, you have to understand—”

 

“No!” Clarke yells. “I _always_ understand! I _always_ understand! I always understand when I have to take people’s burden, I always understand when I’m chosen second to literally everyone. I don’t want to understand! You gave me away!” Her voice breaks. “You gave me away, Mom. I can’t be everyone’s second place anymore. I’m tired of being second place. You floated me.”

 

Abby winces and takes a step back. Clarke knows it’s a low blow. But she needs her to leave. She needs to be alone. She’s going to panic again and she’s ready to break.

 

Because she missed her Mom.

 

She missed her _so much_. She’s had no one for so many years and she spent the majority of them thinking about what she had lost. Clarke never knew she would still be losing.

 

“You’re right.” Abby says. “And I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

 

She turns and leaves.

 

Clarke chokes, holding her chest. She heaves, trying to talk herself down, but a part of her aches to sprint after her mother. Tell her she forgives her, to please come back. She wants, no needs, her mother.

 

“Clarke?”

 

Clarke turns around to see Madi sitting up in their bed, her eyes wet with tears. “Madi,” Clarke breathes, moving close to her and putting a hand on her head. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

 

Madi sniffs, saying, “I wish you were in space with Bellamy. Or in the bunker with your Mom.”

 

“Madi, no.” Clarke says, running her hands down her face. “No, I am so glad I was here with you. I’m so glad you weren’t alone.”

 

“But you were.” Madi says.

 

“No, I had you.” Clarke says. “You’re my family.”

 

“But there was no one here for you.” Madi states. “I’m so sorry you were alone.”

 

“I wasn’t alone.” Clarke insists.

 

The two lie down and Clarke runs her hands up and down Madi’s shoulder. “You are not alone. I was not alone. We’re family, Madi.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

 

“I’m not, Madi. I promise.”

 

Clarke stays awake until she does, staring at the ceiling of the tent.

 

“I promise.”

 

***

 

The next morning starts with a headache and anxiety.

 

Clarke knows she has to speak with him. As much as she would like to ignore the tape for another day, she also knows Bellamy. Or, at least, who Bellamy was. He may have given her the evening, but he wouldn’t give her that space for much longer. She assumes that Murphy spoke with him – probably threatened him – but Bellamy could only be held off for so long.

 

So, after waking Madi up and explaining she was going to speak with Bellamy and may not be back for a while, Clarke leaves the tent to an early, misty morning with endless possibilities.

 

She watches the fog roll on the ground around her and she thinks about how the world is going to end again. War follows her just as death does and thinks that maybe they don’t deserve earth.

 

Who deserves what they destroy?

 

It doesn’t take long to find him. He’s sitting outside the Eligius ship, watching the sun rise, eyes distant and filled with weight. Clarke wishes it wasn’t there, even though she knows she placed it upon him. It would be so easy to walk away now, not approach him. Find ways to avoid him, as she did before this entire mess happened.

 

Except she’s so tired of running.

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asks as she steps up to him.

 

His head whips in her direction and his eyes are worn, tired, and empty. When they lock onto hers, he bolts to his feet. “No.” Hi voice is thick and pained, but filled with an honesty that Clarke knows she’ll have to reciprocate.

 

She points to her head. “I probably slept better than I should’ve.”

 

“You should be resting.”

 

“Probably,” Clarke sighs. “This seems more important. Do you want to take a walk?”  


Bellamy nods, taking place next to her. They don’t touch. In fact, they are as close as two people can be _without_ touching and something underneath Clarke’s skin buzzes with the idea of it. But she reminds herself of why she’s here, why she’s walking with the person she longed to return to her.

 

Yet never did.

 

Both seem to be waiting for the other to start, but what Bellamy doesn’t know is Clarke is used to silence. She’s used to speaking to a radio with no response, she’s used to waiting. He was always the more emotional one, the one who thought with his heart instead of his head. It was really only a matter of time.

 

“Clarke,” he states, longer than she anticipated. They’re wandering further out of Polis than is safe, but neither seem to care. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Clarke can’t help but huff a humorless laugh. “What good would that have done, Bellamy?”

 

“I could’ve—”

 

“No, you couldn’t have.” Clarke states. “There’s _nothing_ you could’ve done to replace the past six years. It’s not fair to dwell on any of it.”

 

Bellamy frowns. “But what about you, Clarke? What about what’s fair to you?”

 

“Life’s not fair, Bellamy.” Clarke says, thinking of everything she lost. Wells, Finn, Lexa… her father. “Life tips in different directions and we don’t get to dictate which way it goes. I knew what I was giving up when I stayed on earth. I knew what I was doing. I’m not going to put any of that on you.”

 

“What if I wanted you to?” Bellamy almost shouts, his entire body trembling. “What if I wanted you to tell me, help me share it—"

 

Clarke had seen the signs. She’d seen the him get closer and closer to the breaking point. Bellamy had been so stoic, using his head in every scenario. But he’s crumbling before her and she doesn’t know what to do.

 

“I thought you were dead, Clarke.”

 

“I know—”

 

“No, I don’t think you do.” Bellamy cuts her off, his eyes squeezing shut. She can see his defenses shattering, all the walls of his head plummeting into the ocean. She doesn’t enjoy watching him fall to pieces, but she restrains herself from reaching out to him. Things were different now. They had to be. “I don’t think you understand what it was like to know that I left you to die.”

 

“Bellamy,” she says. “I wanted you to. It was the only way any of you were going to survive—”

 

“ _I know, Clarke!_ ” He shouts, his entire body shaking with the fury of it. “Don’t you think I get that? Don’t you think I know that it had to be done?” He sucks in a breath. “I-It’s not fair, Clarke.”

 

“When do you and I ever get what’s fair?” Clarke answers. “We don’t get to choose the circumstances we’re put in. All we get is to decide how to move forward—”

 

“That’s bullshit!” He exclaims. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

 

“Of course I know it!” Clarke yells, unable to stop herself. Because here is a boy, whom she loves. Here is a boy whom she chose to save. And yet he’s standing before her, with someone else, changed and whole, while she’s nothing but the fragments the earth decided to save. “Every moment we’ve been on this planet has been bullshit! Don’t you get it? I watched my father die, you watched your mother die. I was in isolation for a year and you were thrown into demeaning work. We tried to save people we couldn’t save. Everything about this is bullshit.”

 

“Except you.” He states, turning to face her.

 

It’s hard to take Bellamy in all at once. He’s an overwhelming presence, looming over her, feeling of safety and warmth. She wants to recoil from it because it isn’t hers, but she stands her ground, hoping he’ll be the first to walk away.

 

He isn’t.

 

“It has been horrible, but we found each other.” Bellamy insists. “We’ve _always_ found each other.”

 

Clarke’s lip trembles. “No, not this time.”

 

Bellamy’s eyes furrow and for the first time he looks at her like he doesn’t understand. Something about her refusing to be next to him doesn’t compute. “What?”

 

“We’re different people now, Bellamy.” Clarke states, wiping under her eyes. “We aren’t the kids who landed on the earth as lab rats, anymore. We’re not the kids who pulled the lever at Mt. Weather. We’re different people on totally different paths.”

 

“Clarke—” Bellamy breathes, hurt lacing his tone.

 

“I called you every day, Bellamy!” She cries, needing to close her eyes so she isn’t encompassed by him. Somehow when he’s no longer in her sight, she can set her resolve, she can feel herself breathe better. “For 2,199 days, I called you and I didn’t hear a single response.”

 

“Clarke, I—”

 

“I know it’s not your fault.” She says. “And I want you to be happy, I want you to be so happy. I’m glad you had everyone on the Ark. I’m glad you had people.”

 

She doesn’t need to say Echo.

 

“But I…” She tries to tell herself this is important, it’s important to pull away. It’ll keep Bellamy safe.

 

Everyone she loves dies. And she’ll be dammed if she’s the death to Bellamy Blake.

 

“I’m not the girl who was left to die on earth anymore.”

 

Bellamy sucks in a breath, his face filled with hurt.

 

Clarke shakes her head. “We both grew up. We both grew… apart.”

 

“What are you saying?” He asks sharply. “Are you saying we aren’t…”

 

He can’t finish his sentence, which Clarke gets. Because what were they? They weren’t lovers, but they were more than friends. They were something in between, like ships passing in the night, never able to meet.

 

“We need to accept the fact that who we were and who are, are two different people now.”

 

“You called _me_!” Bellamy shouts and Clarke’s surprised.

 

She’s surprised by the fire behind it, she’s surprised by the anger. He’s stalking toward her and before she can do anything about it, his hands are on her arms and he’s holding her there, as if he’s afraid to let go. Like she’ll fly away, finally disappear.

 

“You called me.” He says, his voice cracking. “Every day.”

 

Clarke shuts her eyes, tears finally escaping. “Yes.”

 

“And I didn’t answer you. Every day.”

 

“No.”

 

Then Bellamy crumbles.

 

She’s seen Bellamy crumble a few times in their time together and it never has been a beautiful thing to see. It’s been like watching someone light themselves on fire for a mistake that isn’t their fault. It’s horrible, scary, and out of control.

 

He leans down to her and places his forehead on the top of hers, his hands shaking as they go to the sides of her face. “Clarke,” he begs, but for what, she doesn’t know.

 

Placing her hands on his, she brings them down. “We can’t be what we were to each other anymore.” She says, unable and unwilling to stop her sob.

 

There’s really no point, anymore.

 

Bellamy heard her at her most vulnerable. Alone, scared, and surrounded by the end of the world.

 

“Please, Clarke,” he says.

 

Bringing her hand up to his cheek, Clarke brushes a tear away with her thumb. “We deserved a kinder world.” She states.

 

He leans into her hand, a small cry escaping his lips as she does so.

 

She takes a second. One second. One second to feel him, feel his warmth against her. Feel the ghost of a kinder world.

 

“I’m sorry.” She says, placing a kiss on his cheek.

 

Then she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sooooo… hella angst.
> 
> For all of you HATING me right now, this was super necessary for what’s to come in the next 3 chapters. And I needed them to just talk and realize: there’s no good answer. Sometimes, there isn’t. Also, if you can’t tell, Murphy and Clarke are my broTP. I need them to interact more on the show.
> 
> I was going to write one more scene in the chapter, but decided to save it until Bellamy next chapter because I just wanted to end on horrifying angst. Spacekru and Wonkru are getting ready to attack Eligius and there may be some… feelings. PERHAPS.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! Someone told me there is a 2 week hiatus?! What are we going to do?! (I’ll probably just write a bunch because I’m SUPER EMOTIONAL NOW)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the reveal of the tape, Wonkru, Spacekru, and Clarke leave to set the sensors in the Valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your wonderful words! I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Since we have another hiatus, here’s Chapter 8 instead! I can’t believe that we have to wait another 2 weeks! That seems like poor planning… :P 
> 
> This chapter I’m really nervous about – you’ll see why at the end. I hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 8

_Bellamy_

Bellamy’s furious.

 

No, not furious. Furious isn’t a strong enough word. Bellamy has spent the past six years using his head, he’s spent the past six years mourning Clarke and hearing her voice at every corner of the Ark. He used it to soften his anger, soften his impulsivity, and most importantly, soften the guilt from the past years that ate away at him.

 

Now that he’s back on the ground?

 

Everything is on fire.

 

Fury courses through every part of him and he feels the need do something terrible. He stalks around the Eligius ship, his hands shaking. He tries to calm down, he tells his heart to shut up, but it’s screaming so loud, that he can’t hear his head anymore.

 

Clarke’s words from the tape play over and over in his mind, making it impossible for him to think straight.

 

She was alone. She was all alone. He left her to die and she spent six years on a desolate planet, crying out to him for support.

 

She is his ghost.

 

Bellamy lets out a strangled cry and slams his fist into the wall. Pain explodes in his knuckles and closes his eyes, letting the pain radiate through his arm. He shakes his hand and immediately regrets it.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Someone cries and suddenly there’s an aghast Raven next to him. “What the hell, Bellamy? If you break your hand, you’re not going to do anything and we’ll have to keep Monty here to babysit you.”

 

“Screw you, Raven!” Bellamy shouts, unable to stop the rage coursing through him. Raven flinches when he does so and he doesn’t even have space within himself to feel bad about it. Everything is _wrong_ , everything is _overwhelming_ , and everything is _falling apart_ in ways he never anticipated.

 

“Bellamy, you need to get your shit together!” Raven snaps, the momentary startle disappearing and being replaced with her fire.

 

“She called us, Raven!” Bellamy bellows and he’s unable to see straight. He paces throughout the room and barely registers that Raven shuffles to the door and closes it. “She called us _every day_ and we didn’t answer. She was all alone on the planet and we left her there.”

 

“Okay, you need to bring it down like, five _thousand notches_ , otherwise everyone’s going to hear!” Raven hisses, looking where she just shut the door. “Seriously, it’s like we’re on the Ring six years ago. You can’t just go punching everything whenever you feel overwhelmed.”

 

“I have spent the past six years pretending that everything is alright when everything was absolutely _not_ alright. She called us—”

 

“No, Bellamy.” Raven says softly. She approaches him like one might approach a wounded animal. Her hands are up and she’s slowly walking toward him. “She called _you_.”

 

Bellamy makes an angry noise, frustrated and wounded.

 

“You have to accept that it happened.” Raven states. “You have to accept the fact that she was by herself here and now everything’s different.”

 

“I don’t _want to!”_ He screams and everything comes pouring out of him without remorse. His chest aches, his head hurts, and everything he pretended was fine is gushing out. “I don’t want this to be real! I don’t _want_ Octavia to be losing her fucking mind, I don’t _want_ us to be at war again, and most importantly, I do not _want_ accept the fact that Clarke was here by herself without me. We were a team, Raven…” He says, hanging his head. “We were always a team.”

 

“I know.” Raven says, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes you have to change your team.”

 

“But I don’t want to!” Bellamy exclaims.

 

Raven sighs. Her eyes are shining with tears and she says quietly, “I know you don’t.” She lifts his chin up so he has to look at her. “Listen. You can’t go back to the place you were the first year on the Ring. You can’t isolate yourself and fall apart when you have so many people around you who love you.”

 

Bellamy closes his eyes. “I’m so angry. I haven’t been this angry since…”

 

“Since we left.” Raven states. “I remember. But you can’t use this as an excuse to fall apart.”

 

“Excuse to fall apart?” Bellamy repeats. “Are you kidding me right now?”

 

“No.” Raven snaps. “I’m not going to treat you like glass this time Bellamy. We don’t have time. We don’t have five years. We’re on the brink of war, Monty’s already made the radiation sensors, and any minute, Octavia’s going to call another war council and we’re all going to be asked to go into enemy territory. We don’t have time to fall apart. We have to pick ourselves up and do what needs to be done.”

 

“ _We_ don’t need to do anything. I—”

 

“ _I lost my best friend, Bellamy!”_ Raven exclaims, her voice catching. For a brief moment, he thinks she’s going to hit him and he tenses, waiting for it. Except as quickly as it explodes, it ebbs and Raven heaves a breath. “Listen. You’re not the only person who lost your family that day.” Raven states evenly. “I made you leave her. I made _us_ leave her. I was the one who sent her on that job in the first place. I have had to deal with that by myself for six years.”

 

Bellamy winces. He’s never heard Raven speak like this. To be fair, he was a bit of a disaster their first year on the Ark. Raven all but beat the crap out of him to get him interacting with everyone – a tactic he later used on Murphy. But she never sad anything. Sure, he saw the sorrow in her eyes and new the two were close, but it was a friendship he never quiet understood. A friendship that should’ve been built on rivalry and contempt turned into something loyal and fierce. “Raven—"

 

“No,” Raven says, putting her hand up. “You’re not the only one who wants to set the world on fire because of those tapes. I could’ve got the radio up and running.”

 

“Raven, come on—”

 

“I didn’t want to!” She exclaims, biting her lip. “I said it was a waste of time, but I didn’t want to get them running. I didn’t want to hear the silence. I didn’t want to spend years waiting for someone from the bunker – who wasn’t Clarke – respond. She was my sister, Bellamy. I thought I had only Finn for the longest time and yet, she stood there and offered friendship. Hearing her voice and what she had to go through…” She breaks off, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m never going to forget it. Ever.”

 

Bellamy bows his head. “Neither will I.”

 

Raven sucks in a breath and offers him a wry smile. “So what we need to do is suck it up, not show anyone we’re messes right now, and figure out how we’re going to survive the next few weeks. Once we do, maybe we have a shot as something nice.”

 

“When have we ever had a shot at something nice?”

 

“We had the Ring for six years.” Raven states. “It wasn’t the ground. There wasn’t rain, there wasn’t food, but we were safe and we had each other. And this time,” She reaches out and grabs his wrist. “We’ll have Clarke with us.”

 

Bellamy isn’t sure when Raven weaseled her way into his life, but he’s so grateful she did. She’s intimidating, made of fire, and fiercely loyal, and for some reason, on his team. He pulls her into a hug which she only slightly stumbles into, and he clutches her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

“You’ll never have to.” She mumbles into his shoulder. She pulls away with a smirk. “And I get it. I’m awesome.”

 

“Hell yeah, you are.”

 

There’s a knock on the door and both whip to have their backs face it, both pretending they don’t see the other scrub their tears away as quickly as possible. “Come in!” Bellamy shouts, his voice rusty and low in a way he hopes is threatening and not heartbroken.

 

Monty steps in, frowning at the two of them. “Everything alright?” He asks concernedly, wincing as if he’s preparing for another attack.

 

“Yeah, Bellamy was having another meltdown.” Raven says off-hand.

 

“Hey! You were melting down too.”

 

“I’m Raven fucking Reyes.” She states. “I never melt down.”

 

“Good god, the women in my life,” Bellamy mutters to himself.

 

Monty rolls his eyes, familiar with this dance between the two. “Octavia’s calling another war council.”

 

“Called it.” Raven states.

 

“I think she wants the sensors to leave tonight. I finished them way too quickly.” Monty adds, downcast.

 

Bellamy tries to smile. “You’re just too smart for your own good. We should probably make sure we’re on that team, so Octavia doesn’t somehow start a war on their home territory with five men.”

 

“They’re going to ask Clarke to go.” Monty says hastily, barely able to keep eye contact with Bellamy.

 

Honestly, he should’ve seen this coming. Logically, it makes sense. She’s the only one who knows the territory, she’s the one who came up with the plan, and she’s the one who traded herself for Miller’s life. Just thinking about that makes the rage come back to him in full force and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm down.

 

Finally, he manages, “Then we need to absolutely be a part of that task force.” He says this as evenly as possible. “Clarke is injured and she’s not going to say anything about it. And we all have to realize that if McCreary or anyone else sees her, they’re going to kill her on sight. Clarke is a part of our family.” Bellamy says.

 

“Of course she is.” Monty states, waving a hand like he’s insane.

 

Bellamy can’t help but smile at him. He thinks of the past six years and the people who slowly became family. He thought that he had to bare Clarke’s death alone. Bare it, so they didn’t have to. But perhaps that was selfish. He forgot that Clarke was a big part of everyone. And he may be feeling her absence – feeling her words – but so is everyone else.

 

“Yeah,” Raven nudges. “We protect our own.”

 

“Also, Harper is super in love with Madi.” Monty states. “And you all know Harper is very ride or die.”

 

Bellamy and Raven can’t help but laugh. Wrapping an arm her, Bellamy sighs. “Let’s go feel bad about the world.”

 

Monty shakes his head. “And no one listened to me when I said we should’ve stayed on the Ring. No one ever listens to me.” He grumbles, marching out of the room.

 

Raven chokes back a laugh. “He’s not wrong.”

 

Bellamy sighs. “Monty rarely is.”

 

The two of them walk through the Eligius ship, side-by-side, like they always do. Bellamy’s grateful for Raven and her loyalty, and knows in this moment, he’s chosen his family well.

 

Except by the time they make it to the war room, the air is thick with tension and Clarke is already in the room next to Octavia, her eyes pinched. Octavia’s whispering something in her ear and Bellamy can telling she’s resisting the urge to shudder, her fingers curling into fists on the war room table. “We miss the invitation?” Bellamy asks as they walk in, simply so Octavia will snap up and glower at him.

 

“You can’t miss something that wasn’t extended to you.” Octavia retorts, moving away from Clarke as she does so. Clarke seems to settle when she leaves her, but is pointedly not looking at Bellamy.

 

It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, but it feels like his skin is buzzing. He wants to yell, he wants to scream again. The only reason he doesn’t is because Raven puts her hand on him and he’s reminded that it’s important. But Clarke’s _not looking at him_ and for some reason, that makes him more irrationally angry than he can put to words.

 

How is it that she can not look him? After everything that they’ve been through and she won’t look at him.

 

He thinks of their conversation earlier that morning and it’s like his heart is breaking all over again. He didn’t think that he could feel as upset as when he left Clarke, but there’s nothing that could prepare him from having her back, but not having her back. Looking at her from across the table, he wills her to glance up at him.

 

But she doesn’t.

 

In fact, she’s determinedly looking anywhere _but_ where he is and it drives him insane in a way he hasn’t felt since the first year on the Ring.

 

He’s startled to see Murphy walk up to Clarke, nudge her shoulder, and then whisper something in her ear. She rolls her eyes at him and he smirks, pleased with himself for whatever it is that just transpired. He ignores the gnawing feeling in his stomach that makes him want to punch Murphy in the face – an inclination that he hasn’t had in years. Instead he clenches his fist as Murphy leans in once more and says something that makes Clarke snort.

 

For a brief moment, she glances up at him and they catch eyes. He’s certain he’s imagining it, but he thinks he’s sees longing in her eyes. He holds onto it, like it’s her hand and he’s begging her to stay on the ground.

 

But then again, she’s the sun and he’s Icarus. And he’s flying too close.

 

“Let’s get started.” Octavia states, taking a seat at the head of the table. Indra stands next to her, crossing her arms. “Monty, you say the sensors are complete?”

 

Monty steps closer to the table. “Yes. We need to get them within fifty yards of the people we’re trying to weaken, but it’ll drastically affect their health. We just need to place them around the perimeter, get out of range, and turn them on. We need to be sure to be far enough away so the radiation doesn’t hurt us.” He scrunches his face. Bellamy frowns at the gesture. He only does that when he’s about to say something that he knows won’t go over well.

 

“Monty.” Octavia states.

 

Monty winces. “I think Clarke should lay the sensors.”

 

Clarke whips her head in her his direction, her eyes sharp and betrayed. Monty drops his head. “She’s the only one who is immune to radiation. We can get her as close as possible to the perimeter and she can set the sensors. I’m sorry, Clarke.”

 

Clarke purses her lips. “It’s a good plan, Monty.”

 

He doesn’t respond.

 

“So, we’ll take Clarke and a small team to Shadow Valley.” Octavia states, standing up from her chair. “We’ll plant the sensors around the perimeter and then we’ll come back to Polis. Indra, round up ten people for the trip. We need to keep it small as to not draw attention.”

 

“We’re coming too.” Bellamy says, crossing his arms.

 

“Wait, no.” Clarke says, frowning at the implication. “The team should be as small as possible. We should take the highest trained soldiers from—”

 

“I’ve been to Shadow Valley.” Bellamy states over her, trying not to let the sting of her challenge affect him. “I’ve interacted with McCreary and his crew. I’m your best soldier.”

 

“No, he’s not.” Clarke cuts him off. “You and I both know that it would be better to use a Wonkru-based team.”

 

“Excuse me?” Bellamy snaps, trying to hide the frustration in his voice and failing.

 

“It’s _dangerous_ , Bellamy.” Clarke insists.

 

“Yeah, I know it is.” Bellamy states. “Why do you think I’m going?”

 

“Octavia,” Clarke says, turning away from him. “You and I both know—”

 

“He’s coming.” Octavia states. “We don’t have time to let love cloud our judgments. Love is a weakness.”

 

Clarke recoils at her comment.

 

“We’re leaving in two hours. Everyone prepare yourself.”

 

Octavia flickers her fingers and Indra follows her, leaving Spacekru and Clarke to be in the war room by themselves. Clarke rubs her arm, shuffling like she doesn’t belong with the group, which awakes something within Bellamy that he can’t explain. “What the hell were you thinking?” Clarke exclaims.

 

“What the hell are you thinking?” Raven snaps before Bellamy can say anything. “Do you really think that you going alone with Octavia and her army is a good idea?”

 

“No, it’s a terrible idea!” Clarke exclaims. “But an even worse idea is you guys getting involved. You could’ve stayed here!”

 

“Do you really think we would stay here when Octavia is taking you to the Valley?” Bellamy cries, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Do you have no regard for you own life?”

 

“Of course I do!” Clarke exclaims. “But what about yours?”

 

Bellamy closes his eyes, telling the ghosts of six years ago to leave him alone.

 

“I was trying to keep you guys from putting yourself in danger again. Just go to Octavia and have her bring members of Wonkru instead. I think that if we tell her—”

 

“Clarke, I don’t take orders from you.” Bellamy snaps. It strikes a chord within him to use words that he used so long ago, but his rage is only quelled for a small moment. “Unless you can come up with a better answer, we’re going.”

 

“My better answer is we have no idea what they’ve done to protect that land. Do you really think surviving the past six years is worth throwing it all away for some stupid—”

 

“Actually, I can help there.” Shaw states, stepping out from behind Raven. “Raven got the radio working. These are a bunch of convicts and murders, not engineers. They tried to get an electric fence up, but ended up electrocuting three people before giving up. The entire northeast is unguarded.”

 

“See?” Raven says, gesturing to Shaw. “We have an entirely unguarded side—”

 

Clarke puts her hands up, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it. There are other people who are more than capable than—”

 

“Clarke, we’re going.” Bellamy states, clenching his jaw. “Monty created the devices, so he needs to go. Raven can get us out of any predicament because she’s a genius, so she needs to go. I’m the best shot we have, so I have to go. The second best goes to Harper, so she has to go. Murphy and Emori can survive anything, so they have to go. And Echo was an actual warrior spy, so she has to go. You have to use your head here, Clarke—”

 

“Excuse me?” Clarke seethes, her voice low and dangerous.

 

“Why don’t we all settle down?” Murphy states, putting his hands up. “Clarke, why don’t you get Madi and pack—”

 

“Madi is not coming!”

 

“Then what is she going to do? Hang around with Gaia? If you and all of us are gone, she’s a sitting duck. She has to come.” Murphy insists. “We aren’t engaging. We’re setting a bunch of traps and there’s going to be multiple people who know how to murder.”

 

Clarke tilts her head. “Surrounded by other people who also are great at murder.”

 

“See? We’ll all be in good company.” Murphy says, pushing her toward the door. “Go pack, grab Madi, and it’ll be the road trip you never knew you needed.”

 

“Murphy, I swear to god—”

 

“I know, you’ll kill me, I’ve heard it all before.”

 

Somehow he manages to get her out the door, grumbling about cockroaches and that he’s lucky she’s on his team. He watches her until she’s out of ear shot, and when he turns around, Bellamy’s legitimately concerned Murphy might start swinging punches. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He exclaims, his glare squared onto Bellamy.

 

Bellamy almost flinches at the strength of it, but is too flustered by their sudden closeness to be too thrown off. He scowls at Murphy in a way he hasn’t done in years, like all the repressed frustration and angst from their relationship is being dredged up and he has to wade in it. “You want to start that sentence again, Murphy?” Bellamy snaps.

 

“Actually, that’s exactly how I’d like to start that sentence.” Murphy states. “You guys need to accept the fact that she doesn’t want to deal with you right now.”

 

“What is your problem, Murphy?” Raven cries, matching’s Bellamy’s anger.

 

“My problem is that he’s playing right into Octavia’s hand!” Murphy shouts, gesturing at Bellamy. “And this little road trip, or whatever the fuck it is, is going to be hard enough without you guys messing with Clarke’s head!”

 

“Messing with her head?” Emori repeats. “What are you even talking about? What is wrong with you?”

 

“I’m on Clarke’s team, okay?” Murphy admits, putting his hands up. “We have each other’s backs, that’s always how it’s been. Even when she hated me, she had my back.”

 

Bellamy tries not to grumble and insult, but manages, “Because we haven’t had your backs?”

 

“No.” Murphy states matter-of-factly. “Clarke was the one who begged you not to hang me, and we all saw how that went.” He snaps at Bellamy and he’s taken aback by the force of the accusation. “She’s also the one who convinced you to give me a second chance and let me back into camp, so I wouldn’t be captured and tortured by Grounders again. And I don’t know why you, of all people, aren’t on my side in this!” He says, waving his hands at Emori.

 

Emori glares. “Do _not_ make this about you and me, John.”

 

“This isn’t about you and me – she saved your life twice at full risk of her own.”

 

“She saved us _all_ , Murphy.” Echo interrupts, the only one not losing it at this point.

 

“No, specifically Emori.” Murphy snaps. “She took the nightblood so you wouldn’t get tested on. Then she gave her mask to you when yours ripped. She did those things because she knew what losing you would do to me. You guys may be perfectly fine forgetting all the little stuff that led to us abandoning her on earth, but I won’t.”

 

Raven sighs, all fire worn out. “Come on, Murphy. You know that’s not fair.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “None of this is fair. But Clarke always the one who had to make the tough decisions when no one else wanted to. Hell, the whole Council came back from the Ark and she was _still_ the one who had to choose who died or lived. And she looked out for me. So I’m going to do the same thing, so _someone_ finally has her back too.”

 

“We’re on the same team, Murphy.” Bellamy states. “All of us. This hasn’t changed.”

 

“It’s not our fault you isolated yourself on the Ring for six years.” Emori snaps and Bellamy wants to will her to put their frustrations with each other aside for a moment. “You’re the one who decided not to get involved – don’t put that on us.”

 

Murphy’s jaw clenches and it takes him a couple seconds before he can speak naturally. “I’m just saying. Unless you’re going to be helpful, stay out of my way.”

 

With that, he stalks out of the room and out of the ship.

 

“Holy shit.” Raven breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Murphy loyal to someone like that – outside of Emori.”

 

“He’s not that loyal anymore,” Emori grumbles.

 

“Look at it this way,” Raven shrugs. “At least you know this isn’t some clever plan to get you back. Because it is not the way to do it.” Raven turns to Bellamy. “Is he right, though? Should we give her space after the tapes?”

 

Bellamy uncrosses his arms. “Raven, you and I both know there is rarely a definitive right or wrong answer. And maybe we should give Clarke space, but like you said before, we don’t have time. Octavia’s going to be leaving for the Valley in a couple hours and we have to make sure she doesn’t take advantage of the fact that she currently is owed a huge favor by Clarke. And I don’t know about you all, but I’m tired of stories where we leave her behind. I have no intention of doing it again.”

 

Raven smirks. “Hell yeah.”

 

“I’m in.” Monty states.

 

“Me too.” Harper offers.

 

Emori sighs at where Murphy had stalked out. “I’d be more enthusiastic if John wasn’t coming.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s probably not going to talk to any of us.” Echo says, stepping closer to Bellamy. “Let’s do it.”

 

“Uh, I’m still here.” Shaw says awkwardly. “Should I leave so you guys can have this really weird moment?”

 

Raven rolls her eyes and pushes him forward into the group. “You’re in this now, buddy.”

 

Shaw groans. “What I wouldn’t give for my bike right now.”

 

“We’re about to go on a potential suicide mission, surrounded by lethal fanatics and a murderous tyrant.” Bellamy states. “I can’t believe you would trade that.”

 

***

 

By the time they leave, the sun is high in the sky and sweltering down on them. Spacekru keep to themselves while Octavia and Indra lead the way, Clarke, Madi, and Muprhy a few paces behind them. Madi keeps throwing nasty looks over her shoulder directed at Bellamy, her eyes narrowing once they lock onto his. This continues for a while until Clarke finally notices and she smacks her shoulder.

 

Whenever Clarke’s attention is elsewhere, Madi sneaks another in.

 

“Uh oh,” Raven says to Bellamy. “You pissed off the mini-me.”

 

“So it would seem.” Bellamy sighs.

 

“What part do you think she’s the most mad at? The leaving Clarke to die part, the stealing the tape part, or the big argument part?”

 

“My guess is that it’s a combination of all the parts.” Shaw says next to Raven. Bellamy tries not to be annoyed by the interjection.

 

Fortunately, Raven glowers at Shaw for him.

 

Bellamy gazes at to where Clarke is only a few feet away from him, but it feels like so much further. They never were this apart. He doesn’t even know what to do with it – the fact that she’s up there and he’s standing several feet behind her.  It makes him angry – no, furious – but he keeps telling himself to use his head.

 

But his heart is demanding action.

 

He lets out a shaky breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Raven. She gives him an encouraging smile, but it does nothing to quell his nerves. He feels oddly comforted by the fact that Abby and Kane are a few paces behind him, also hesitant to go anywhere near her. Perhaps he should realize that Clarke is even more alone than he feels. He considers joining her, at least showing her that he’s with her now, but Indra puts up her fist, causing everyone to stop.

 

“We need quiet now, we’re about to enter the valley.” She says low and on edge.

 

Clarke reaches out and grabs Madi’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear. Madi nods and takes a small step behind Clarke, who’s clutching her gun carefully. Bellamy nods to Spacekru, all of whom cock their weapons and move forward.

 

Entering the valley for the second time is an entirely different experience. When he rushed to get Clarke, there was nothing else on his mind – all he wanted was to ensure her safety and make sure it was real. But when they step into the green grass, something he hasn’t seen in years, Bellamy can’t help but take a second and run his fingers through the flowers. Clarke’s words hit him, telling him she can’t wait for him to see it, as if Praimfaya decided to skip the entire valley. He can see why she cherished this place.

 

It is beautiful.

 

However, as he runs his hands through the flowers, it reminds him that Clarke isn’t next to him and they’re about to wage war on another clan. The carousel goes round and round…

 

“Clarke, you’re with me.” Octavia say, flickering her fingers.

 

Clarke nods without a word, taking Madi’s shoulders and leading her back to where Spacekru is. Murphy follows, annoyed, scowling as he puts his gun against his chest. “Madi, stay with Bellamy and the others while we go plant the first sensors.” Clarke instructs to Bellamy’s surprise.

 

“Why?” Madi asks. “I want to be with you, not them. I can have your back.”

 

Clarke grins. “While I appreciate that, I’ll have Wonkru soldiers who are ready to attack anything that goes near Octavia. It’ll be fine. Just stay here with Spacekru and I’ll be back before you know it.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

Even though Bellamy has a million thoughts going through his mind, he says, “We’ll keep an eye out for her. Nothing will happen.”

 

“I’m sure it won’t.” Clarke says with a half-smile. “Now behave – I don’t care how much you think you’re right, Bellamy’s in charge here.”

 

Madi scowls. “Why?”

 

“Because I said so.” Clarke chuckles.

 

Octavia calls Clarke’s name and she sighs. “I’ll be back before nightfall. Okay, my _natblida_?”

 

Madi rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

 

With a snort, Clarke turns her attention to Bellamy. “Thank you.”

 

He tries to not show any emotion – to show how much it hurts she’s being so formal with him or even thinks she has to ask. “Be safe.” He says instead. “And hurry.”

 

Clarke flinches at his words, her eyes distant as if she’s transported six years ago. With a nod, she sprints toward Octavia and the two of them disappear deeper into the woods.

 

“I suppose that means we’re not invited.” Murphy drawls, but it doesn’t reach the glare he sends toward their backs. He places his hands on his sides, which Bellamy has noticed he does when he’s frustrated with something and restraining himself.

 

“I guess not.” Bellamy agrees. He’s startled to see only a small collection of Wonkru has followed them, the rest setting up camp. “I suppose we’ll have to wait for them to return.”

 

“Don’t worry, Madi.” Monty offers, scooting close to her. “They’re just placing the device and turning it on. Clarke will be right back.”

 

Except Madi focuses on where Clarke left, not even making eye contact with any of Spacekru. Raven widens her eyes at Bellamy, as if to urge him to do something. “Monty’s right, Madi.” He says. “Clarke will be fine.”

 

She glowers at him.

 

He marvels at how it’s a very Clarke glare – certain the time they spent together has sharpened her gazes. Raven stifles a laugh and even Echo covers her mouth to keep a laugh from escaping. “Come on, Madi, why don’t you help us set up?”

 

She doesn’t actually do anything until Murphy kicks the back of her knee, nearly causing her to fall over. She yells at him, but there’s barely any fire to it. Instead she helps him out, gathering wood in the area and telling Harper which plants were alright to eat and which were poisonous. Bellamy doesn’t want to think of what process of elimination the two had gone through to figure that out.

 

By the time the sun starts to settle in the sky, Bellamy can’t help but have some anxiety creep into his stomach when Clarke and Octavia don’t return. He casts glances at where they left, catching Madi’s eye as he does so. Every time she scowls at him, returning her focus to the fire.

 

“I’m mad at you.” She finally states.

 

Bellamy lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

 

Raven poorly disguises a laugh as a cough.

 

“You took the tape out of the radio.” Madi accuses, which isn’t untrue, but Bellamy’s starting to get a headache and his nervousness is eating away at his patience.

 

“By that standard, I should be mad at you too.” He states.

 

This clearly catches Madi off guard. “What?”

 

Bellamy shrugs. “You said that you didn’t know why Clarke kept the radio. I find it very hard to believe that you and Clarke lived together for six years and you didn’t realize once that she was trying to get a hold of me.”

 

He says this as lightly as possible, but Madi has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Uh… no?”

 

Bellamy gives her a face. “Madi.”

 

“Fine! I knew!” Madi says, crossing her arms, but her scowl doesn’t alleviate. “Clarke would’ve been mad if I told you.” She admits. “She barely even let me around when she talked to you. She usually waited until I was asleep or before I woke up. I don’t think she wanted me to listen.” Her anger comes sweeping back. “And I don’t think she wanted you to hear either! You shouldn’t have taken that!”

 

“Madi, how was I supposed to know that the tape had recordings of her talking to me every day. You said you didn’t know what it was for. I genuinely thought that it would have nothing on it – or worse case scenario, it had _my_ last conversation with my sister before the radio went out.” He pauses, because he’s noticed Madi’s deflating. Raven casts him a warning look and he sighs. Reaching out, he gently states, “Madi, I would never intentionally hurt Clarke. You have to believe me when I say that. I’m on your side.”

 

Madi’s eyes narrow and he’s very aware that she’s surveying him with the gaze of a hunter. Everyone tenses as she frowns, but then the rage filters out. “Yeah, okay.” Madi grumbles, nudging the firewood with her feet.

 

Bellamy blinks. Harper waves her hands at him, encouraging him to go on. “Madi, are you doing alright?” He asks, following where she’s returned her attention to the place Clarke and Octavia had disappeared hours ago. “I know that it’s been crazy since we’ve returned and opened the bunker. How are you doing?”

 

Madi plays with her hands. “It’s fine.” She mumbles.

 

Bellamy leans closer. “It’s okay to be upset, Madi.” He insists. “It’s okay to be scared.”

 

Madi’s lip trembles and she focuses on the fire as she does so. As she opens her mouth, she’s cut off by a cry in the woods.

 

“Help! We need help!”

 

Bellamy’s head whips up at Clarke’s voice, his eyes wild.

 

Clarke stumbles into view, her arms under someone’s she’s leading into the clearing, covered in blood. “Clarke!” He shouts, shooting straight up and sprinting toward her.

 

“It’s not mine!” She exclaims as if reading his mind. “Please, I can’t help him much longer!”

 

Bellamy runs up to her and takes the man’s weight. Without even hesitating, Clarke yells at Octavia, whose sprinted through the woods with blood speckling her face. “We need to go back and get the injured!”

 

“Absolutely not.” Octavia spits. “We can’t run the risk of being shot at. We were ambushed.”

 

Clarke stares at her incredulously. “Octavia _, Indra’s_ out there! She’ll die if we don’t get her!”

 

“Then she’ll die a warrior’s death.”

 

Bellamy’s heart sinks at Octavia’s words, unable to even look at his sister. She’s completely unrecognizable – completely _Blodreina_. Before he can argue shots ring out in the area.

 

“Take cover!” Octavia shouts and before anyone can register anything, bullets are whizzing through the trees.

 

Without thinking, Bellamy accidentally drops the man he’s taken from Clarke, hitting the ground himself as gunshots ring in the woods and tear the trees apart. He can barely hear Clarke screaming for Madi. Scanning the crown of scattering Wonkru, he sees Madi cowering by a tree, flinching at all the gunshots.

 

_“Madi, where are you?”_

_“Clarke!”_

 

Bellamy scrambles to his feet and sprints to where the preteen is, gripping her arm. “It’s okay Madi, I’ve got you.” He breathes, whispering in the rain of war.

 

“Bellamy—” Madi chokes, her eyes wild and terrified, covering her head as bullets are aimed in their direction.

 

“I’ve got you.” Bellamy repeats. “Trust me, I’ve got—”

 

A sharp pain electrifies his abdomen and Bellamy stops. His eyes widen, his hand reaching down to where suddenly his stomach is on fire. Placing his fingers over it, he winces at the touch, his fingertips returning covered in blood.

 

“Bellamy?” Madi whimpers, her vice-like grip on his arms suddenly not feeling so tight. His legs are beginning to lose feeling and for some reason the earth is tilting.

 

He thinks someone’s screaming. Perhaps a lot of people are screaming.

 

Except everything is fuzzy and filled with cotton. Before he can register what’s going on, his head hits the ground. It’s puzzling because he isn’t sure how he got there. But now the sky is above him and he’s staring at the stars.

 

He wonders what would’ve happened if they stayed there, surrounded by universes. He pushes that thought aside as darkness starts to claim him.

 

A thousand universes would be too small if they didn’t contain Clarke Griffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: uhhhhh… I’m the worst…?
> 
> I really wanted to bring back the old, brash Bellamy from previous seasons because I’m FULLY CONVINCED he’s about to snap. He’s been too calm for too long! And because it makes me sad, I’m ignoring the fact that Spacekru seems to leave Clarke out and am doing the whole, “we want her to be with us but it’s super painful” because I need my girl to be included, you know?
> 
> As much as I say I want them all to be happy, I tend to put a lot of angst in everything... whoops?
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter, I’m SO EXCITED, you guys. Prepare yourself.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts if you have a moment! And if you want to chat on Tumblr, i’m chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple chapters I’ve been really excited to write / you to read. The first one – because I thought it was a cool idea, the finale / climax (which will be in a few chapters), and this chapter. It’s been rolling around in my mind for a while now and I knew I had to get everything to this moment. Why I needed to switch back and forth still from the tape reveal, why I held certain scenes off until different POVs…
> 
> As some may have seen, I’ve been making gifs to announce new chapters (because I discovered it’s very fun to do) and really made myself sad when making these of Clarke. Because it was the painful kind of character development, you know?
> 
> Okay, enough talking. Really excited for you guys to read!

CHAPTER 9

_Clarke_

Clarke loves it here.

 

The valley became a home in a way the Ark never did – Camp Jaha never did. She actually recognizes where they are. A few feet from where she stands is where Madi climbed a tree and fell, causing her to wear a splint for two weeks, much to her dismay. Another few yards is a stream where the two of them had a water fight after a long trek in the desert, accosted by glass sand storms.

 

Every piece of the valley holds a memory to her that she treasures. A reminder that the six years she spent alone may have been hard, but they were also beautiful too. They were filled with laughter and love that Clarke had never experienced on earth. From the moment she stepped on the ground, she was focused on the next way to survive. Except Madi and her didn’t just survive.

 

They thrived.

 

Clarke loves it here.

 

She can hear Bellamy’s harsh breaths even from where she’s standing, crouched on the ground, waiting for more gunshots. Every part of her is telling her to rush over to him, but they are _still shooting_ and every time she moves, a gunshot blasts by her feet. Clarke sees Madi’s terrified face a few yards away, her hands pressed on Bellamy’s stomach, blood staining her fingers, and it’s everything she can do to not risk it. Even over the gunshots she can hear Madi crying, desperately calling out to Bellamy, apologizing, begging him to stay.

 

“Madi!” She cries. “Keep your hands on the wound and apply as much pressure as you can!”

 

“Clarke!” Madi screams, sobs cutting through the word. “Clarke please help me!”

 

Hearing Madi in such a state is enough for Clarke to sprint out into the rain of bullets, but then the gunfire stops. Clarke lifts her head slowly and waits a grand total of three seconds before standing up. “Bellamy,” she breathes, sprinting across the woods. A few more gunshots are aimed in her direction and she has to fling herself to the ground.

 

“Wonkru!” Octavia bellows, unsheathing her blade. _“Kom folau, oso nag yon op.”_

 

With a harrowing scream, Octavia and a stream of Wonkru soldiers charge the woods. Clarke can hear the metal on trees, panicked gunshots, and screams of life leaving bodies. She pushes everything out of earshot and focuses on a collection of pained whimperings, suddenly too loud and too great for her to handle. Sprinting the rest of the way to Bellamy and Madi, Clarke uses the distraction to reach them, her hands replacing Madi’s as soon as it’s possible.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Madi cries, her face broken and streaming with teams. “I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know—”

 

“Madi, this is _not_ your fault.” Clarke insists, struggling to give her full attention while Bellamy is making terrible pained noises underneath her fingertips. She shudders at the feeling of blood against her skin, wondering why it’s affecting her so. She’s handled Bellamy’s blood countless times, but it feels like it’s carrying more weight – more of a finale than she ever prepared herself for. “You did everything perfect, you placed pressure on the… the—”

 

Bellamy makes a horrifying noise as she presses harder and she has to blink away any stray tears that might escape. People are yelling all around her and it’s too much, it’s too overwhelming. “Madi, get down while they’re still fighting!” Clarke shouts, vaguely aware of the war going on around her.

 

Madi plants herself to the ground, clutching her head as she clamps her fingers to the sides of her ears to keep out the monsters of bloodshed. “Okay,” she breathes to Bellamy, turning her full attention to him.

 

He’s already pale, the blood seeping through her fingers. His mouth is moving like he’s trying to say something to her, so she shushes him as gently as possible. She tells herself it’s to save his strength, but she knows it’s because she doesn’t want to hear whatever he has to say. She doesn’t want last words. She doesn’t want pleadings and promises.

 

This is not the end.

 

“Bellamy, I’m right here.” Clarke says in the calmest voice she can muster. Her hands are pressed against his abdomen and he’s making tiny noises that she will hear for the rest of her life. “Bellamy, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” She blinks back tears, sucking in quick breaths.

 

“C-Clarke—” he breathes.

 

“Shh, please Bellamy.” Clarke pleads. “Murphy! Echo! I need help over here.”

 

The screaming from the Wonkru battle scratches against her ears as she watches figures move toward her. “Monty! Harper! Raven!”

 

By the time they all reach her, she’s very close to losing it. Except she can’t fall apart. Clarke has not fallen apart since she was left on the earth to die. She had the panic attack with Murphy, but it was a tiny fraction of time that she gave herself, but with Madi? She could never be the one crumbling to pieces. Now that Bellamy is strewn on the ground, blood seeping through his clothes and through her fingers, and she cannot lose it now. Spacekru rush to her side, their panic written all over their faces.

 

“Oh my god, Bellamy,” Echo breathes, her face breaking in a way Clarke has never seen on the warrior. Tears well in her eyes and her shaky hands reach out. “Oh my god—”

 

“No.” Clarke snaps harsher than she meant, but she’s having a hard time controlling her volume. “No one can freak out, okay?” She says this mainly to herself, choking down breath after breath. “No one can freak out!” Everyone ignores how her voice wavers and breaks. “We need to move him to a safe place. There’s a cave a little ways away and we need to carry him there. Madi? Do you remember the cave we slept in when we got stuck outside in the lightning storm?”

 

Madi’s gaze is fixated on the blood dripping down Clarke’s hands.

 

“ _Madi!_ ” Clarke yells, calling her to flinch. “Everything is okay, alright? Everything is going to be fine. Do you remember the cave we slept in when we got stuck in the lightning storm?”

 

Madi barely nods her head, but it’s there.

 

Clarke tries to smile at her, but is certain it comes out more as a grimace. “Great, you lead the way. You guys, I have to keep my hands on his stomach, so you need to lift him from underneath and carry him to the cave. Once we get there, my mom can help.”

 

Clarke tries to find Abby, but she and Kane are huddled at a distant tree a few yards away. Clarke had been avoiding her as much as possible since the two were ordered to come on the trip as medical support, but she didn’t know how to treat a gunshot wound. Everything she learned, she learned from the ground, but never had formal training.

 

She found out very quickly she couldn’t save everyone.

 

Clarke would speak with her mother if it meant Bellamy could live.

 

“Okay, are you ready?” Clarke asks, shuddering. “One, two—”

 

Shouting explodes in the forest and the footsteps get louder and louder. Clarke sucks in a breath, but breathes when Octavia bursts through the branches. Not all the Wonkru soldiers come back, but the ones that do are worn and splattered with blood. “Octavia! Please help us!”

 

Octavia approaches them, her eyes stuck on Bellamy. They widen and she looks like she might drop her weapon. The soldiers exchange glances as she is frozen.

 

“Octavia!” Echo shouts.

 

Echo’s words snap her back into the present. “You don’t talk to me.” Octavia seethes, brandishing her weapon at Echo.

 

“We don’t have time for this, Octavia!” Clarke pleads. “Someone needs to grab his feet. Okay? On my count. One, two, three!”

 

The moment everyone moves him, Bellamy makes a guttural howl, whimpers growing in volume. It takes everything in Clarke to not wince when he does so, even though all those around her do.

 

“You’re okay, Bellamy. I know it hurts, you’re okay.” Clarke says evenly. “I’m so sorry, you’re going to be okay.”

 

They stumble through the forest, Bellamy letting out horrible noises as they do so. Clarke continues to try to placate him, plead with him that he’s alright, but nothing she says gets through to him. By the time they reach the cave, her hands have slipped two times and she’s had to close an ear with her shoulder.

 

They bring him as far into the cave as they can, gently placing him to the ground. He screams when they do so. “Murphy, can you please keep pressure onto his stomach?” Clarke chokes. “I—I need to, we need—”

 

“Clarke, I got this.” Murphy cuts her off, placing his hands over hers.

 

Except she can’t let go. She’s afraid to move her fingers. It feels like if she takes her hands off, everything will end. Her entire body is shaking. Murphy slips his hand under hers, focused on Clarke.

 

“Clarke, I’ve _got_ this.” He says stronger and soon both his hands are under hers. “Go talk to Abby. I won’t move. I promise.”

 

Clarke trembles. With an almost imperceptible nod, she finally releases her hands, sticky and coated with Bellamy’s blood. Murphy doesn’t break eye contact, doesn’t break down, doesn’t _break._ The only reason she’s able to stand is because he seems so certain. Wiping the blood off on her shirt, she shivers at the thought of it staining the only clothing she has access too. As a marker of what she’s lost.

 

“Okay.” She whispers to herself, allowing herself a small moment to get under control. She can’t panic. She can’t freak out. She can’t fall apart. She repeats it over and over again, just as she did when it was her and Madi and they were alone in the world.

 

She has to be strong, even if she’s crumbling on the inside.

 

Then she shoots to her feet. “Mom!” She calls. “You brought your medical bag, right?”

 

Abby nods.

 

“Please grab it, we have to move. Octavia!” Clarke shouts. “You should send a team to get the survivors from the sensors. I think I saw two people still moving when we fled. We’re going to be stuck here for a bit, but it should be safe for the time being to go get them.”

 

“Are you insane?” Octavia shoots back. “We barely made it out with our lives!”

 

“But Indra is out there!” Clarke insists. “Your own people are there!”

 

It happened so quickly.

 

Clarke is certain the only reason she wasn’t a casualty in the cross fire because she was setting and turning on the sensor, several yards away from everyone else. They were afraid to be anywhere near radiation, so she did it by herself, fumbling with the buttons after only getting a brief lesson from Monty. As with most things. The gunfire came out of nowhere and by the time she realized what was going on, the Eligius crew had already killed three Wonkru soldiers.

 

Blades were nothing against bullets.

 

“Indra understands what must be done.” Octavia states. “She understands when it’s necessary to sacrifice—”

 

“Octavia!” Clarke shouts because no one else is _saying_ anything. If Bellamy were able, he would talk sense into her. If Bellamy were here, he would make her go. “Octavia, we can’t leave her.”

 

Octavia takes a moment to settle. She takes a breath and tilts her chin up. “Love is weakness, Clarke. One life for that of many is worth it.”

 

“Octavia, you can’t be—"

 

“I’ll go.”

 

Everyone shifts to see Kane standing up, his expression stony. “Indra is my family and you always fight for family. I’ll go to get her.”

 

Octavia’s eyes narrow at his words.

 

Without missing a beat, Clarke nods. “Okay. Mom, we need to start now. If you need anything from us, Madi can give it to you Kane.”

 

Abby doesn’t give her the attention though. Instead Abby stands with Kane, her hands cupping his face. Clarke has to look away, despite everything that’s happened, she doesn’t want to impose on such an intimate moment. It feels like everyone’s holding their breaths and she can hear the whispered ‘I love yous’.

 

“We’re going with you.” Monty states, getting to his feet. “You need backup and Harper is a great shot.”

 

Harper agrees. “We can’t help here. But we can help Indra.”

 

The two of them are both trembling with tears. Bellamy’s cries are echoing in the cave, the two wincing as he does so. Kane opens his mouth to argue, but Monty puts his hands up. “You need backup. There may still be some Eligius soldiers out there, and if you’re carrying Indra, you won’t be able to defend yourself. And we can help.”

 

Kane nods. “Thank you, you two. We should leave immediately.”

 

The three of them move to exit the cave, Kan pausing when he reaches Clarke. “He needs you, Clarke. You remind him of where the line is.”

 

Clarke frowns. “What? What line?”

 

Kane gives her a wry smile. “We’ll be back.”

 

The three clutch their weapons and leave.

 

Clarke is overwhelmed. She’s overwhelmed by the amount of people around her, she’s overwhelmed by how everything went sideways so fast, but most importantly, she’s overwhelmed by the fact that Bellamy’s life may soon be over. For six years she held onto hope that he was alive, that he was going to return to her, and that hope got her through the toughest times she’s ever experienced.

 

Because of hope.

 

Now hope was flying away, out of her reach. Hope was transforming into gunshots and violence, the end of the world and blood spatter, and there was nothing left.

 

“Mom, I’m sorry, I need your help.” Clarke says. “Please, you have to help him.”

 

“Okay.” Her words are barely audible, but it takes her a second to move. Clarke’s trying not to scream, not to rush, knowing her voice will give her panic away if she does.

 

But Abby does come over, her hand on Bellamy’s head. “He has a fever,” she states and Clarke kneels next to her. “We need to get the bullet out, but also he’s at a great risk for infection because all our bodies are still acclimating to the new climate. We need antibiotics.”

 

“Do you have any?” Clarke asks.

 

Abby hesitates. Her hands stay on Bellamy’s head and she focuses on where Murphy’s hands are. Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out an orange pill bottle, only two pieces rattling at the bottom. “This is all we have left.” She says softly, her thin fingers wrapped around the bottle.

 

Clarke’s eyes widen. “Mom—”

 

With only a second of pause, she places the bottle in Clarke’s hand, pressing the plastic into her palm. It feels heavier than it should. “Use them. It’s the only way we can keep him stable while we retrieve the bullet.”

 

“Mom—” Clarke says, feeling her mother’s hands shake under her palm.

 

“Take them.”

 

“You’re shaking.” Clarke says. “You won’t be able to work on Bellamy.”

 

Abby stares at her, appearing like her mom for the first time since they sealed the bunker. “No, I won’t.” Abby says. “You will have to be my hands.”

 

Suddenly Clarke is transported back to her mother trading her for drugs, telling Diyoza that _she_ will her hands. However now, _she_ has the pills. “Mom, you could go into withdrawl. You could go into _shock_.” Clarke starts listing off multiple ways her mother can die because she can’t focus on losing two people. Everything is falling apart and she can’t stop it, just like she was never able to stop any of it. “Mom, you could—”

 

“Clarke, I _know_.” Abby says. She’s overwhelmed with a sense of calm, her face stony and hands still. “We’ve all done things we need forgiveness for. And this is how I start asking for it.”

 

“Mom, I can’t—”

 

“Yes you can.” Abby says. “Clarke, you _can_. Bellamy needs these drugs but I can’t get the bullet out if he has them. So I need you to do it. And you’re going to because you have to.”

 

“Mom,” Clarke says, her words breaking. “I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t be the one to kill Bellamy.”

 

Clarke’s panicking. She can feel the paralyzing fear rise up in her throat. “No,” she squeaks out, darkness encircling her eyes as breathing become harder and harder.

 

“Clarke.” Abby snaps, placing her hands on Clarke’s face. “Clarke, you listen to me. You can _do_ this. You aren’t alone anymore. You have me, you have your friends. You will save Bellamy. Do you hear?”

 

“Mom—”

 

“No. You _will_ do this. And you need to do this now.”

 

Clarke nods, her head bobbing up and down. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.”

 

Turning to Bellamy, she catches his eyes. She hasn’t seen him with such fear in such a long time. She’s brought back to the day before the grounders war, Murphy sent there to weed them out. Clarke doesn’t remember when Bellamy came inside, but she remembered seeing him recover. She’s never seen Bellamy look so afraid. They fought grounders, they thought they were alone, but it wasn’t until it was something he couldn’t fight that she saw the real spark of fear. Something he couldn’t shoot, something he couldn’t punch.

 

Something he couldn’t see.

 

Here he is again, with something he can’t fight and he looks terrified. “Hey,” she says, brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

 

He turns his head and they appear unseeing. Then they lock onto hers and his brow furrows. “Don’t leave.” He pleads.

 

It’s so quiet she almost thinks she’s making it up. That she’s so desperate for something to hold onto, to make her believe it’ll be okay. But then he repeats it. “Clarke, don’t leave.”

 

She grabs his hand tightly, putting as much force into it as possible. “I’m not leaving.” Clarke insists, allowing a few tears to escape. “Bellamy, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Please don’t leave again.” He says, his words soft and urgent. “Please, Clarke. I need you.”

 

It’s terrified. Desperate. Filled with so much emotion and weight, it’s like she’s suffocating on it. Clarke is vaguely aware of everyone staring at them, everyone watching.

 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Clarke says, leaning in so her forehead so it touches his. It’s clammy and warm, but he’s there. Alive. “I promise, Bellamy. I’m right here. I promise I won’t leave you. Never again.”

 

He makes a noise and closes his eyes, his body relaxing enough so that it terrifies Clarke. “Mom, what do I do?” Clarke asks, letting go of his hand. “I need you to tell me what to do.”

 

“Okay.” Abby says, rummaging through her medic’s bag and retrieving a scalpel. She rips open an alcohol wipe and runs it across the blade, handing it to Clarke. “Take this.”

 

Clarke doesn’t take it at first. Abby pushes it closer to her. “Clarke.” She urges. “Clarke, I need you to take this right now. He’s losing too much blood and we have to start.”

 

Taking it from her hand, Clarke sucks in a breath. “Okay, what first?”

 

“We need to open the wound more so we can take the bullet out. Murphy, Raven, we’re going to need to hold him down. This isn’t going to be pleasant.” Abby states. “Echo, please hold his hand.”

 

Clarke tries not focus on how she moves close to him, intimate in ways she never could be. Six years have passed and all they have are whispers of their previous lives. “Okay, what do I do first?”

 

As soon as Murphy takes his hands off of Bellamy’s stomach, she watches the blood seep. He moves his hands to his shoulders while Raven takes his legs. “Clarke, you’re going to make an incision on either side to open it up. You need to be deliberate. There can’t be any hesitation.” Abby takes a pair of scissors with shaky fingers, cutting his shirt open.

 

Clarke nods. Placing her finger on the base of the scalpel, Clarke touches the blade to his skin. “I’m so sorry.” She states.

 

Pressing down, Clarke slices against the wound. From the moment the blade sinks in, Bellamy lets out a strangled cry, his legs swinging upward. Raven clamps down on his legs, Murphy struggling with his shoulders. “Keep going, Clarke.” Abby says and Clarke tries to focus on it.

 

“Someone needs to shut him up.” One of the Wonkru soldiers says. “He’s going to give away our position!”

 

“You’re the one who needs to shut up!” Raven snaps, not taking her eyes off Bellamy.

 

“We should just kill him and get this over with.” Another soldier says.

 

“Go to hell!” Murphy shouts.

 

“You _all_ need to shut up!” Clarke screams, her entire body shaking. “I am holding a blade to my… friend, person, whatever, and I need you all to either shut up or leave, okay?”

 

Everyone’s mouth snaps shut.

 

Returning to face Bellamy, Clarke digs the scalpel in further. He shrieks with the contact again. “I’m sorry,” Clarke says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

***

 

_The night is quiet._

_Clarke makes sure that Madi is asleep inside their house, the lights from the lamp flicking in the window. She steps out under the stars and lifts her head to the sky._

_Whenever Madi went to sleep, Clarke likes to sit out on one of the benches and watch the stars. With the radio in hand, Clarke clambers on top of the picnic table and lies down. She flips it on without even looking at it, years of use making it so she didn’t even need to spare a glance. Instead, she puts the radio on her stomach, watching the stars in the sky and wondering if she squinted hard enough, if she could see the Ring._

_“Hi Bellamy,” she says softly, not tearing her gaze away. “It’s me again. I know I’ve already called you today, but I needed to try again.” Her lip trembles and the loneliness washes over her. It’s been two years since Praimfaya and she thought it would get easier. In some ways, it did. The earth is more livable, she can survive. But the fact that she’s alone is a presence that weighs on her chest more than it doesn’t._

_“I wish I knew whether you guys made it. Whether you are alive.” Clarke says, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I keep looking to the sky waiting for a sign, but I never get one. I suppose you wouldn’t think to give me one. It’s not fair of me, I guess._

_“There was so much I wanted to say that day.” Clarke reminisces. “I tried to say… how I felt. Because the world was ending and I knew I would never make it into that rocket. Granted, I thought I was going to die, but I knew I’d never make it to space. But I got scared. Because what if I said something and I did make it to space and you didn’t feel the same way? It’s not like there would be many places to hide with only eight people.”_

_She chews her lip. “In case you wondered and never knew, I love you, Bellamy Blake. And I’m sorry. Because me loving people means they don’t last long. Everyone I love dies.” She falters on the last word, her thoughts filled with Finn and Lexa, both of whom she watched take their last breath. Both of whom she was the cause of their last breath. It’s hollows her out, like someone’s scraping her insides and not filling her back up._

_“I hope I wasn’t your end, Bellamy.” She cries. “I never wanted to cause you pain, I hope you know that. And yet I did, again and again. I kept leaving you._

_“Now I’ve really left you.”_

_Clarke thinks about that as she watches the sky. She sees a faint light, slowly moving, and if she suspends her logic, she pretends it’s the Ring. She pretends it’s the Ring and all her friends are there, thriving. Or, thriving as much as one can on algae._

_“I miss you.” She gives herself this honesty, because it’s late and she’s alone and she doesn’t even know if they’re alive. “I miss you so much. And the selfish part of me wishes you were here._

_“Please come back. I can’t do this on my own anymore.” She begs, unable to stop herself. It’s selfish – maybe even cruel – but she wants him back. She doesn’t want to do this alone, not anymore. “Please Bellamy. Please come back._

_“Please.”_

***

 

“Please come back.”

 

Echo’s whispering in Bellamy’s ear and it causes Clarke to flinch. Those aren’t words for her to hear, but she can’t do anything about it. His screams stopped a while ago when his eyes fluttered shut and he drifted into the world of unconsciousness. Clarke’s inserted a device in his gunshot wound and is digging to grasp the shell casing, glad to be rid of his pained noise.

 

It’s like a nightmare. The same nightmare that had her plunge the dagger into Finn’s chest. The same nightmare that had her watch Lexa bleed out before her eyes.

 

The nightmare plays over and over, the carousel never stopping.

 

Love from Clarke Griffin is the only disease that has no cure, it seems.

 

Focusing as much as possible, she manages to clasp it and pulls it out, the bullet covered in blood. “Excellent Clarke,” Abby states, shutting her eyes when a particularly violent tremor overtakes her.

 

“Are you okay, Mom?” Clarke asks, startled enough to drop the instrument, bullet and all.

 

“I’m fine,” she says in a strained voice. “Let’s focus.” Placing a hand on Bellamy’s throat, she makes an unhappy noise.

 

“What is it?” Echo asks.

 

“His heart rate is too slow.”

 

“What did I do?” Clarke asks, panicked. “I-I did everything you said—"

 

“Honey, it’s not you.” Abby cuts her off before she can spiral too much. “He’s lost way too much blood. We need to give him a transfusion while he’s still recovering.”

 

“Do we even have those tools?” Clarke asks, her voice wavering.

 

“Yes, they’re in my bag, you saw them, everything’s going to be fine.” Abby states. She rubs her temples and a tremor wracks her body. “The best option without being able to test his blood type is a family member.”

 

Everyone turns their attention to Octavia. It’s as if she steals the breath away from Clarke, Clarke unable to catch it. “Octavia,” she manages, standing up from where she’s been leaning over Bellamy’s body. “Octavia—”

 

She takes a step toward her and Wonkru soldiers all move in front of her, their weapons poised on her. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.” Raven snaps. “Can we stop pointing guns at Clarke for like, five seconds?”

 

Clarke almost laughs but all she can do is step further into the guns and sword. A blade pokes against her stomach, but she doesn’t back down. She doesn’t even look at any of them. Instead, she focuses on Octavia, whose hard eyes and unforgiving stance is a little intimidating. “Octavia, please.” Clarke says. “Please, we just need your blood to give to—”

 

“You will not touch Blodreina.” Cooper states, pressing her blade deeper into her chest.

 

“Octavia please. You know if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t even hesitate.” Clarke says. “He would give you everything. Please, just… we just need your blood.”

 

“Absolutely not.” Octavia states. “We don’t have the time and we need to leave before they come back. We don’t have time to waste here!”

 

“Waste?” Clarke repeats, incredulous. “You think your brother’s life is a waste? What is wrong with you?”

 

Cooper moves her sword to Clarke’s throat. Clarke inhales at the touch of steel, but forces herself to stay still. “Octavia, what are you doing? You know if he were in your shoes, Bellamy would lay his life down for you.”

 

 _“Love is a weakness, Clarke_.” Octavia states. “I’m am not going risk the lives of all of Wonkru for one person.”

 

“This isn’t just one person, Octavia!” Clarke shouts. Cooper presses the blade closer to her throat. “This is your _brother_. It’s _Bellamy_. You can’t just let him die.”

 

“I am not happy to let him die.” Octavia snaps, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want my brother to _die._ But sometimes you have to make hard decisions. I figured you of all people would understand.”

 

“This isn’t the same!” Clarke cries.

 

She thinks of when A.L.I.E. is taking over. She thinks of when her own mother wrapped rope around her neck and flailing, her life slipping away. She thinks of Raven dislocating her own shoulder. She thinks of Murphy’s beaten body.

 

She thinks of Bellamy, a knife in his legs as Roan twists a knife in his thigh. She remembers him screaming in agony as she begged for his life.

 

It makes sense that every life is valued through the eyes of which it was seen.

 

“What do you want.”

 

A statement.

 

Clarke doesn’t even give Octavia a chance to fight back.

 

“What do you want, Octavia?”

 

Octavia’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

 

Clarke sets herself. “You heard me. What do you want? What do you want for Bellamy’s life? What will it take you to do this?”

 

Octavia stills. Clarke can see her mind working through the options, the pros and cons. Finally, her head tilts. “What do you mean, Clarke?”

 

“I want to know what it would take to get you to give Bellamy your blood. What do you want?”

 

It takes a while for Octavia to answer. She flicks her attention to Bellamy, his calm body causing a twitch in her jaw.

 

“You.”

 

“Excuse me?” Clarke asks.

 

“I want you. I want one favor. One favor that you give me, no questions asked.”

 

“No questions asked?” Clarke repeats. “What do you mean?”

 

“I want one favor. One favor without you even questioning why I’m asking. Deal?”

 

Clarke hesitates.

 

She thinks of everything that Octavia can ask her to do. She thinks of the ruthlessness Octavia has shown, the executions she’s committed. Everything she’s done. Everything’s Clarke’s done.

 

Clarke can’t pass that along.

 

“One condition.” Clarke states.

 

“Which is?”

 

“It’s only me.” Clarke states.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Clarke takes a breath. “It’s only me. You don’t get to wrangle Bellamy or Madi or anyone else in. It only involves me. Nothing more.”

 

Octavia’s lips curls. “Deal.”

 

Clarke reaches out.

 

“Clarke no.” Raven rushes over, smacking her hand down. “You don’t know what she’ll ask you to do!”

 

“I know!” Clarke shouts. “But Bellamy is going to die!” The thought of it hits her all at once and it nearly knocks her off her feet. It feels like the world is too big and too small at the same time, but she isn’t sure how it can be. It takes every ounce of self-resolve to not completely shut down. “We save who we can save today.” Clarke tells Raven. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

 

The echo of Bellamy’s words resound in her head and she plays them over and over.

 

Clarke moves to take Octavia’s hand, but Octavia shakes her head. Taking her blade, she slices down her palm, handing it to Clarke. “We will shake on it, as Wonkru.”

 

The blade is sharp, although old, Clarke knowing Octavia cared for it well. It feels off in her hand, a weapon she never wanted to end someone’s life with. Slicing across her palm, Clarke watches the black blood mix with Bellamy’s, coated all over hands. She grabs Octavia’s. “We’re running out of time, we need to do this now.”

 

Octavia nods to Cooper and she drops her weapon. Rushing her over to Bellamy, Clarke says to her mom, “Okay, do we have everything we need?” Her mother nods, handing her the tubing and some needles. “Octavia, if you sit there, I can set you up.”

 

It doesn’t take long and as soon as her blood starts snaking through the tube, something loosens in Clarke’s chest that she didn’t realize was there. Octavia sits, her arm on her knees focused on Bellamy. His eyes have been closed for several minutes now and there’s something in her expression that is familiar. An expression Clarke hasn’t seen in a while. A softer Octavia, the hard edges of the world no longer carving her into marble.

 

“Clarke!” Someone shouts at the base of the cave.

 

Clarke nearly falls, she gets to her feet so fast. Kane and Monty have Indra under their arms while Harper backs into the cave, her gun trained on the forest. “Indra!” One of the Wonkru soldiers shout. Octavia cranes her neck where she sits, her jaw twitching.

 

“Is she okay?” Clarke asks, meeting them at the entrance. She runs her hands down her body until she finds blood seeping down her leg.

 

“She was shot in the leg, which is why she couldn’t get back in time.” Kane states, scowling.

 

“I would’ve been able to get back.” Indra growls. “I’m _fine_.”

 

“You can’t even walk.” Kane says. “I don’t think it’s life threatening right now, but _would have been_ if we didn’t come back for you.”

 

“Stupid decision,” Indra mumbles.

 

“Clarke, you need to stitch up Bellamy’s gunshot wound.” Abby states. “I’ll give Indra a examination as you do.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Clarke sucks a breath. “Okay,” she says to herself. “Okay. I can save them. I can save them all.”

 

***

 

_“Clarke?” Madi calls._

_Her voice is odd. It’s small and weak. Urgent, Clarke sprints to the bedroom. Madi is standing in the center of the room, her fingers by her nose. Black blood is dripping onto her lip._

_Clarke rushes over to her. “Madi, are you okay?”_

_“I don’t feel good.” She says._

_“Lie down, lie down.” She ushers her to the bed, helping her into bed. Blood seeps from her ears and Madi’s skin is pale. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”_

_“Clarke,” Madi says, reaching up. Her fingers come back with blood too. “It’s happening to you too.”_

_It’s been a year since Praimfaya. The earth still glows with radiation and the sunset looks like the world is on fire. Clarke feels a pounding in her head._

_It’s hit them again._

_It happens from time to time. Even though they’re nightblood, doesn’t mean they’re immune to the side effects of a planet doused in radiation. Just as Luna found, their blood kept them from dying, but it didn’t protect them from everything. “Clarke, my stomach hurts.”_

_“It’ll be okay. This’ll pass like all the other times.” Clarke says._

_Crawling into the bed, Clarke presses the hair away from her face. It’s cold and sweaty, and Clarke says, “Cold sweat,” She runs her fingers through her hands._

_“I don’t like this,” Madi groans, clutching her stomach._

_“I know,” Clarke says to the seven-year-old, still unsure of what she’s even doing. “But it will only last for a little while. Just for a little while, I swear. I’ll sing to you, and close your eyes. Try to fall asleep.”_

_Clarke starts to hum, her tune only a little louder than Madi’s cries. She winces when she feels a sharp pain in her stomach. “Make it stop, Clarke.”_

_“I’ve got you, Madi. It’ll be over soon.”_

_Except it’s not over soon. Clarke finds herself succumbing to the fever. After a while, she realizes that she’s stopped humming. Even later she can barely figure out where she is. Instead, all she knows is that her body is on fire and she was left on this earth to burn. She hears screaming and it sounds like it’s coming next to her, but maybe it is even coming from herself._

_It’s okay to scream when everything is on fire, right?_

_“What if I didn’t save them?” Clarke mutters, her words slurred and patchy. “What if I didn’t get the power on in time?”_

_No one answers. Because no one ever answers._

_“What if I didn’t save them? What if I didn’t save them?”_

_The fire doesn’t answer._

***

 

She may be shaking, but she pokes the needle through his skin, pulling the suture across. It’s easier for her if she focuses on the task: poke, pull, switch. Poke, pull, switch. She starts counting the stitches as she does them to keep her grounded on this planet.

 

Clarke finally reaches a point where there’s no more skin to stitch together. She holds the needle in her hand, running her fingers down his stomach. They’re covered in blood, red and black, staining her skin in a way she isn’t sure if she’ll ever be able to scrub off. She tries to find something to stitch up, but there’s nothing but smooth skin.

 

“Clarke, it’s done.” Someone says as she holds the needle ready, her hands quivering. “You just need to tie it. It’s done.”

 

“I-I need—” Clarke says, unable to process what she’s saying. “I-I need to save… to s-save—”

 

 _“Clarke!”_ Abby shouts, grasping her face. “You did it. Once the transfusion is over, Bellamy should be _fine_.”

 

“What if he dies?” Clarke whimpers, unable to stop the words from coming out of her. “What if he’s dies and everything is… what if—”

 

Suddenly, she’s aware everyone’s staring at her. No one’s talking. Her hands are covered in Bellamy’s blood and she has a needle in one of them, and no one is doing anything.

 

Standing up, Clarke does the only thing she can when she feels overwhelmed.

 

She runs.

 

She stalks out of the cave, dropping the needle as she goes. Even exiting the cave gives her a fresh burst of wind, filling her lungs and choking her. Everything is all around her. Her hands feel heavy with the weight of his blood and the world is collapsing in.

 

Clarke makes it to the stream and rushes in without thinking, water up to her knees. She kneels in the water, letting the coolness wash over her. Plunging her hands in the stream, she rubs the blood off. It sticks to her fingers, stains her skin, and collects under her fingernails. She scrubs again and again, but it _won’t come off._

 

“Clarke,” someone says behind her.

 

Clarke doesn’t need to look behind her shoulder to know Raven’s followed her. She ignores her, continues to wash her hands as furiously as she can. She scrubs and scrubs and scrubs.

 

Clarke loves it here.

 

In this stream, Clarke taught Madi how to wash her hair. A few yards away was the first time Clarke ever successfully caught a rabbit in a snare. A few trees over is a carving Madi made with their names, to remind the planet that they survived the worst it could throw.

 

Clarke loves it here.

 

She looks at her stained hands with the memory of Bellamy’s screams.

 

Correction:

 

She loved it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have so many feelings, guys.
> 
> I wanted to have Clarke really confront her feelings in a huge way and accept the fact that not only was she left alone, but now everyone’s back and it’s still affecting her. 
> 
> As for the flashbacks, I wanted to just give glimpses of Clarke really feeling alone – especially since she feels even more alone now that everyone’s back. And highlight the fact that she and Madi had each other, but she also was basically raising a child in a barren world by herself. Also, I found it super hard to believe that a massive radiation wave didn’t have detrimental side effects to Clarke and Madi – even with nightblood. I mean, Luna looked as beat up as the others before she started healing.
> 
> Plus, two fevered confessions! Granted, Bellamy wasn’t around for Clarke’s, but I do think he will lose his mind if Clarke leaves again. And I do believe Clarke has residual ‘everyone I love dies please go away’ syndrome at this point.
> 
> I should stop before I rant about other things…
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any thoughts, I’d love to know. Thank you for reading <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the shooting - Echo and Bellamy have an important talk and Octavia raises the stakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I’m so sorry for the delay… these chapters are getting longer and longer and I’m not quite as fast! So sorry!
> 
> Also – I have a LOT of feelings about the last episode. For the first time, I REALLY felt the Bellamy / Clarke separation – I usually get crazy sexual tension vibes from them and it’s the first time that I felt those two had really changed so much, it might not happen… I know a lot of people loved the episode and while I enjoyed it for entertainment, I also really struggled with it. 
> 
> So here is the next chapter…? I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS. Hope you enjoy Bellamy!

CHAPTER 10

_Bellamy_

The world’s greeting is far too loud and even more painful.

 

Bellamy’s acutely aware he’s on the ground, but the pain radiating from his stomach is almost too much for him to truly register what’s going on. He tries to lift his head, but for some reason it seems to be filled with a weight that he doesn’t understand. Everything is blurry and confusing, and everyone is speaking too loud and too soft at the same time that makes no sense.

 

“Bellamy, stay still.” Someone says to his right. He blinks a few times because it is a face he doesn’t recognize. But after a few minutes of staring, he realizes it _is_ a face he recognizes, just not a face he expects. Abby Griffin is crouched beside him, her hands trembling as she places one on his forehead. “You need to rest and limit your movement. You still could contract an infection – this environment isn’t sterile.”

 

Even though he understands the words she’s saying, as a sentence, they don’t make a terrible amount of sense. He replays them over and over and it’s not connecting until—

 

Oh, _oh._

 

He was shot.

 

The ridiculousness of how long it takes him to realize this is almost laughable, but once the pieces all fall together, he groans. He was _shot_.

 

He doesn’t remember a lot. He remembers Madi, cowering by a tree as bullets rained down on her. He remembers running over her to cover her head, then he remembers—

 

Someone gripping his hand. Someone pleading for him to stay. Someone begging and apologizing again and again.

 

He scours the cave as much as he can in his current state, surprised to see Clarke at the mouth of cave, arguing with Octavia. Her face is scrunched up in the way she does when she vehemently disagrees with something, but she’s doing her best to remain as calm and neutral as possible. Bellamy opens his mouth to call to them, but Abby gently presses her fingers against it. “Don’t worry, Bellamy. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

Of course everything is going to be fine. He was shot, but he’s still breathing, isn’t he? Why would she say everything is going to be fine unless everything is _not_ fine. Bellamy goes to inquire about this when Clarke scoffs at Octavia in a way that is incredibly loud and he winces a bit.

 

“Octavia, please!”

 

“Clarke, look. He’s awake. We can’t stay a minute longer!”

 

It takes Bellamy an embarrassing amount of time for him to realize they’re discussing him. In a frenzied fever logic, he considers telling them it’s rude to discuss someone who is merely a few feet away, but realizes that he can’t do much to defend himself when Abby is watching him like a hawk. In fact, her eyes flit back from Clarke to him, like she’s prepared to chastise him for even considering responding to anything they’re discussing, her brows furrowed as if she’s annoyed he chose to wake up at this exact moment.

 

“Octavia, we can’t move them.” Clarke hisses, shooting a glance in his direction and visibly flinching when she sees his eyes open.

 

Bellamy can’t help but stare. Blood stains her entire front and skin, traveling all the way up her forearms. He finds it strange that she’s in nothing but her tank top, but discovers it’s because her jacket is under his head. He can tell by the ornaments peeking out of a wayward sleeve that has become unfolded. She looks absolutely exhausted, her shoulders slumped and he considers telling her arguing with Octavia can wait until morning, but his eyes are feeling heavy. Abby smiles at him, as if to encourage him to dive into unconsciousness again, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to be a part of whatever Octavia and Clarke are arguing about, but he can’t seem to keep the darkness at bay.

 

“We’ve saved their lives.” Octavia retorts. “But Kane, Monty, and Harper led Indra here. I’m surprised the Eligius crew hasn’t followed them yet and slaughtered us all. The longer we stay in this cave, the more likely they’re going to take us out. We can’t stay.”

“We can’t move them!” Clarke snaps, her frustration getting the better of her. “Look at Bellamy – look at Indra! They will die if we move them too soon.”

 

Bellamy feels like arguing. Because first of all, rude. He survived Praimfaya, he survived being bled upside down. If anyone thinks a simple _bullet_ will be the end of him, they’re kidding themselves. Except he can’t argue, he can simply watch.

 

“You do what you want.” Octavia states. “But we’re leaving. I’m not going to order my people to sit here and die.”

 

“Indra is your people!” Kane snaps, stepping up and joining the conversation.

 

“You are lucky I’ve let you live.” Octavia says, unsheathing her sword and pointing it at him. “If you want it to stay that way, I suggest you refrain from speaking to me.”

 

Kane, in his good sense, closes his mouth.

 

“So what,” Clarke continues for him. “We save their lives only to leave them here to die?”

 

“You choose whatever you like, Clarke.” Octavia states, sheathing her sword. “I’m not calling my favor in now, on something as trivial as you following me here today. But know that if you survive the night, I will call upon my favor.”

 

Bellamy frowns on that, even will his fading consciousness. He tries to ask what Octavia’s talking about, but he can’t help but succumb to the dark.

 

***

 

The second time he wakes up, he knows it’s going to stick because everything is infinitely colder and more uncomfortable. He moans as he returns to the living, someone shifting at his side. He’s greeted to Echo’s worried face, holding out a small cup to his lips to get him to drink some, the action causing a ripple of pain in his lower body. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “Abby said that it’s important for you to remain hydrated.”

 

“I wish the important things were less painful.” He manages, his words catching and choking.

 

He shivers and Echo pulls a jacket draped over him, closer to his chin. Bellamy notices it’s a lot quieter here than the last time he was conscious, but also a lot less crowded. He frowns as he surveys the area, Monty and Harper huddled by a fire, speaking in whispers. Murphy and Emori are close to them, asleep on top of each other as if they fell there and allowed themselves this small luxury, since they had an excuse to fall back on. Kane and Abby are in the corner asleep by Indra, Abby’s head resting on Kane’s shoulder while Kane clasped his hands over hers. Bellamy can see the shaking from here, but for some reason it doesn’t interrupt their sleep. He panics a bit, remember bits and pieces of the conversation he awoke to, but audibly sighs when he sees Clarke with her arm over Madi and Raven on the other side with Shaw next to her, the two speaking in hushed tones to the preteen, whose head is in her knees.

 

“She feels responsible.” Echo offers when she notices his gaze. “For what happened.”

 

It takes a while for Bellamy to realize what she’s talking about. “For me being shot?” He asks.

 

Echo nods. “Clarke and Raven have been trying to console her ever since Octavia and Wonkru left.”

 

The words drop like a stone in water. “So…” he licks his lips to moisten them, telling himself it’s simply the blood loss. “That happened? Octavia left?”

 

Echo nods again, her eyes sad. “This morning.”

 

“And all of you stayed?”

 

She snorts. “If you think any of the people left in this cave would even consider leaving you to die, you are sorely mistaken. Or a little more delirious than I thought.”

 

It touches him more than it should at this point. He’s simply not used to people _choosing_ him, even though everyone in the cave has does so at one point or another. Bellamy thinks of a time when all these people hated him – and yet here they are, risking their lives because he can’t sit up without help.

 

He peers at Echo and finds something sad, something he doesn’t recognize. Except upon further examination, he does recognize it, but it’s been so long, he forgot it existed. The unmistakable pain of loss. “What aren’t you telling me?” Bellamy asks, unable to stop the panic rising. He accepts that there’s little he can do in his current state, but it doesn’t stop him from gripping her arm. “What happened?”

 

Echo’s face wipes. He’s seen her do this dozens of times. When her spy instincts take over and suddenly, she’s nothing but a void. He blinks, confused as to why it’s directed at him. He knows Echo – he knows she’s not cold. Except all she’s giving him is ice. “It’s nothing Bellamy.” Echo states. “Everything’s fine.”

 

“Don’t lie to me,” Bellamy says, not letting her go. He knows logically that if she wanted to leave, she could easily do so, but she stays within his grasp. “What’s going on?”

 

Echo blinks away a solitary tear, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. It’s a rarity that Echo cry and even more rare that she cry publicly. “Everything changed when we got to the ground, Bellamy.”

 

Bellamy is taken aback by her words. He isn’t sure what he expected, but that isn’t it. “Echo, it’s still you and me. It’s still—”

 

“It’s not, though, Bellamy.” Echo says, her voice calm. “And we were foolish to ever think it would be.”

 

Her gaze flits to where Clarke is whispering to Madi, Madi’s cries a quiet, but heavy force in the cave. It takes Bellamy longer than it should to place the pieces back together, his face screwing up in frustration, “Echo, it’s not—”

 

“It is.” Echo states. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Bellamy. I believe that you can love more than one person at the same time. But there will always be one person you love most.”

 

Bellamy can barely connect the words she’s saying. He blames being shot – because, when is he ever going to get to use this excuse – but he replays the words over and over in his mind, trying to make sense of them. “Echo, I don’t—”

 

“Please don’t lie to me.” Echo says. “I love you, but I can’t handle it if you lie.”

 

Taking a deep breath, he tries again, “Echo, yes, I love Clarke. But it’s the same way I love Raven, the way I love Monty and Harper, the way—”

 

“I genuinely believe that you think that’s true. Or that you tell yourself that’s the case.” Echo states. “Do you remember the first few months on the Ring? After Praimfaya?”

 

Bellamy doesn’t respond. He doesn’t care to think of that time.

 

“You would barely even look at me.” Echo continues when he doesn’t answer. “And I’ve always thought it’s because you hated the fact that I made it and Clarke didn’t.”

 

“Echo that’s not—”

 

“It may not be entirely true, but I think a part is.” Echo muses. “An enemy spy who tried to kill your sister twice, Clarke once, you another time, or your best friend.” Before Bellamy can argue, she speaks over him, “You two were partners. Even when you hated each other, you loved each other. It’s the only reason anyone ever survived. You balance each other out, keep each other grounded. You can’t have that sort of connection with developing something deeper than friendship.

 

“I’m a spy, Bellamy. Observing people and the way they behave and act is what I’ve been trained to do. I watched you and Clarke before Praimfaya and I have observed you two now. While the years have separated your priorities a bit, that foundation is still there. And I have no desire to compete with that.”

 

“Echo,” Bellamy says, his words catching. Except he’s having a hard time coming up with anything that is a compelling argument. Words are failing him, _thoughts_ are failing him at the worst possible time. “Please,”

 

“In fact,” Echo continues on, still not looking him in the eye. “I used to tell Roan, if he wanted to defeat Skaikru, he needed to make sure the two of you were separated. You two on your own tilt one way or another. The only way to outsmart your people was to divide and conquer.”

 

“You… you never told me that.”

 

Echo chuckles hollowly. “It’s not something you share when you’re trying to make up for your mistakes.” Finally she turns her gaze to him, her eyes wet, but fierce. “I love you, Bellamy. More than I ever expected to be given in this world. But coming down here is our time for second chances. For being our better selves.”

 

She places a hand against his cheek. “I’m done dividing you.”

 

He sucks in a breath. “Echo, please.”

 

 _“Ai kerion gyon op.”_ She states and presses his lips against his.

 

It’s like a period on the end of a sentence.

 

It simply… ends.

 

She gone before he can say a word, tears in his own eyes. He watches as she goes to the mouth of the cave, nodding to Shaw that she’ll take watch. She says something to Clarke, who frowns, casting a worried glance in his direction. With a squeeze to Madi’s shoulder, Clarke shifts Madi’s weight onto Rave, who wraps her hands around Madi and pulls her in tight. Shaw plops down next to Raven, their shoulders not touching, but they’re close, like magnets pulled to one another.

 

Before he can register what’s happening, Clarke strides over to him. He tries to scrub the tears away with the back of his hand as hastily as possible, but it doesn’t help. Clarke notices and rushes over, her hands ghosting over him. “Are you alright?” She asks. “What happened?”

 

Bellamy pauses. His eyes narrow at her. “What did Echo say to you?”

 

Clarke is clearly taken aback by his tone. “She said that you woke up and needed to be checked out.” She responds. “What should she have told me?”

 

Bellamy coughs. “I thought she may have made it seem more dramatic than it is.”

 

“We all know we leave the dramatics to you.” Clarke mutters, rolling her eyes. With a quick question on whether she can, she lifts up his shirt to the sight of the bullet would, her eyebrows pulling down. He hadn’t had the opportunity to really look at anything.

 

He can tell it’s Clarke’s handiwork when he sees it. The tight, neat stitches lining his stomach, the faint hint of blood staining his skin.

 

Even gazing at it, Clarke’s eyes start to water as she pulls his shirt back down. “Well, it looks as expected. Which means it’s healing as good as we can expect from you lying in a cave. And—” her words stop. Her fingers wrap around the end of his shirt instead of yanking it down and focuses on the back wall. “Thank you.” She says in a small voice.

 

Bellamy blinks. “What?”

 

“You probably saved Madi’s life and I—” Clarke bites her lip. “I can’t believe you almost died.”

 

She says it in a reverent way, like it’s something that can’t be said too loudly. He watches as something chips away inside her – what, he isn’t sure. It’s like a light dimming, the world becoming slightly more dull.

 

She hasn’t unclenched her fist from around the folds of his shirt.

 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Bellamy says, his words soft. “I would do it again and again.”

 

“I know.”

 

He tries to catch her eye because he needs her to know. He needs her to know that he’d do it – again and again – for more than just Madi.

 

It’s clear she doesn’t want to move forward in this conversation. He can see the signs, in typical Clarke fashion, she’s clenching up, searching for the nearest exit. He tries a safe conversation, “How’s Indra?”

 

Clarke is clearly relieved. “She’s alright. It was a through and through. I just had to clean up her leg and stitch it up. Kane was right, though. If someone hadn’t gone to get her, she would’ve been captured or died. There’s no way she could’ve gotten to safety on that leg.”

 

Bellamy suddenly feels the absence of his sister. “That’s good,” he says distantly.

 

“Well, I officially label you as healing well.” Clarke states. “I should get back to Madi. And… I know it’s a lot to ask, seeing as you just were shot and everything, but do you think you could talk to her at one point? She’s… struggling with your injury.”

 

“O-Of course.”

 

“Thank you.” She returns. “I know it’ll mean a lot. You should rest. You have a lot of recovering to do before we can move.”

 

Clarke stands quickly, but hesitates. In an instant, she’s back on the ground, kneeling before him. Taking his left hand, she grips it with both of hers, and once again, he’s grounded to the world.

 

There’s something about Clarke Griffin that keeps him from spiraling away. She holds him there, tying him to earth, like she always had.

 

Because that’s where they met.

 

They were of the earth.

 

“Thank you for not dying.” Clarke says, her words quiet. “Thank you.”

 

And she runs away.

 

Bellamy can’t help but turn his attention to the ceiling. He couldn’t watch her leave. He could see… Echo. He could see the finality of what happened, how he couldn’t keep his head together long enough to convince Echo.

 

The end of a sentence.

 

He supposes that’s the thing about stories. Sure, sentences end.

 

Then the next begin.

 

***

 

“Guys, you know it, I know it. We can’t stay here any longer.”

 

Clarke makes an angry noise as she had been doing this entire conversation, but Bellamy chooses to ignore it. “You all know I’m right. Octavia had a point – we’re sitting ducks here. One of these days, and Eligius member is going to find us here and we’re screwed.”

 

“I think you’re forgetting the part where you were shot and Clarke had to perform surgery on you in a cave.” Murphy drawls, not even stepping towards his gear like the asshole he is. Instead, he merely lifts an eyebrow at Clarke, who tilts her head in response. Bellamy isn’t quite sure when the two of them became partners, but he does know it’s a dangerous duo that he can’t quite put his finger on why he doesn’t care for it. “Or was it the part where Indra was shot in the leg? Because I assure you, both happened.”

 

“Bellamy’s right.” Indra states. She leans against the wall, pain clearly etched all over her face, but she’s standing. “We’ve stayed here for far too long. We need to make it back to Polis before we’re discovered.”

 

“This is insane.” Raven snaps at Bellamy. “You two were shot. That isn’t something that you can just walk off—”

 

“Raven, just calm down for a second—”

 

“Calm down?” Raven spits at Bellamy. “Are you seriously telling me to calm down right now? Like I’m behaving super irrationally because I don’t want to make a trek in the wilderness with two mortally wounded friends of mine. Great.”

 

Indra looks up, surprised. If he wasn’t defending himself, he might think it’s endearing.

 

“We’re not mortally wounded, Raven.” Bellamy states. “Seeing as we both are standing up and talking to you right now.”

 

It’d been a day and a half. Even with round the clock watch and no real signs that Eligius have any clue they’re here, it hasn’t calmed anyone’s nerves. And the thought of Octavia alone, planning a war, hasn’t helped. Bellamy had been in and out of consciousness the entire time, but by the time he firmly grasped reality, he could sense the tension as if it were an additional person.

 

“If you don’t think we need to get back for our own safety here, we need to get back before Octavia does something drastic. Indra hasn’t been there to calm her down and we all know Cooper will just agree with whatever stupid plan she comes up with. We need to be there before she marches on Eligius without thinking it through!”

 

This time, people have less things to say. He can tell Raven wants to, but she doesn’t. Raven never walks into an argument she can’t win.

 

Surprisingly, it’s Shaw who breaks the silence. “I think we need to get to Diyoza.”

 

Bellamy frowns at him. “Why?”

 

“She’s not as bad as you think.” Shaw says. “I know it looks bad, but she’s a reasonable person. She’s the only reason everyone hadn’t killed each other. She’ll be on our side if we ask for help.”

 

“Are you serious right now?” Bellamy snaps. “You want us to trust the person who put Clarke in a shock collar? The person who took over the valley without even thinking about who already inhabited it?”

 

The scowl that has been permanently plastered to Clarke’s face leaves. It pains him how surprised she always is when he speaks up for her.

 

“You have to see it from our perspective!” Shaw exclaims. “We never expected there be any surviving people on earth. When we woke up from our cryosleep, all our readings were that earth had withstood another nuclear disaster. When we came to the valley, we thought we were going to only inhabitable piece of land – with no one there! We didn’t expect to find two people living there, or an entire civilization underground. Did you when you first got here?”

 

Bellamy’s argument dies.

 

That’s exactly what happened before. People they didn’t know survived and there was an entire civilization in a mountain. Monty scrubs his hands down his face. “And history repeats itself, yet again.”

 

“Shaw’s right.” Clarke says, stepping forward. She remained relatively quiet throughout this conversation, only making the occasional disapproving noise. Bellamy notices that Clarke resists the urge to contribute to their planning, resists the urge to state her opinion. He gets it, but desperately misses the days when he knew exactly what she was thinking at all times. “Diyoza is our best bet as to what is going on in the valley.”

 

“So we leave.” Bellamy nods. “And—”

 

“Hush you, I fixed you, I don’t want to have to repair you all over again.” Clarke snaps. “Sit down.”

 

Bellamy is almost shocked enough not to respond. _Almost_. “Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me.” Clarke says. “Sit down before I change my mind about leaving.”

 

It’s such a mom-like demand that Bellamy almost laughs – and is even more grateful when Murphy does it for him. “Dude,” Murphy breathes.

 

“She’s not wrong, Bellamy.” Abby states from the side. “You shouldn’t be standing if we haven’t made a decision. You too Indra.”

 

Bellamy purses his lips at Abby’s comments towards him. He struggles to keep his heart in check, which is screaming at him to keep his grudge – keep his fury – but then he catches sight of her shaking hands. The deep circles under her eyes. The way Kane is holding her, refusing to even glance up to the rest of the conversation. Detox in the most painful way, because she gave her last pills to him.

 

So he says nothing, but slides down the side of the cave.

 

Clarke seems pleased by that, turning her attention to everyone else.

 

“We need to get to Octavia before she floods their camp and needless amounts of lives are ended.” Clarke states. “We only were able to set half the sensors, so we’ll need to make another party to set the second set.”

 

“Clarke, that’s crazy.” Bellamy says. “They caught us the first time. What makes you think we’ll be successful a second time?”

 

“First of all, there is no _we_.” Clarke says.

 

For some reason, that snaps something in Bellamy.

 

No _we._

 

There was always a _we_. Every second they were on the ground together, they were together. They were a partnership. They were a unit.

 

Permanent.

 

Bellamy doesn’t respond. Instead, he catches Echo’s eye.

 

She nods.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

“You are going to sit down in Polis and heal. Myself and a small team are going to finish the job and then we’ll meet you back in Polis, _in the same spot_. I don’t even want to hear about you leaving the room. Am I clear?”

 

“I’m sorry, when do I listen to you?” Bellamy snaps, albeit petulantly.

 

“Every time you go against my advice, you almost die.” Clarke states. “And I’d prefer not to have a repeat. So, Mom, what do you think? Can Bellamy and Indra make the hike back to Polis?”

 

Abby wrings her hands. “It’ll be painful, but they’re both stable enough to where I don’t see why not.”

 

Bellamy lifts his hands as if to say “See?”

 

He can tell by the look on Clarke’s face that she’s considering saying no out of pure spite. “Fine.” She states through gritted teeth. “Murphy, can you make sure he doesn’t fall over?”

 

Murphy groans, but Bellamy can tell there’s no real heat in it. Instead he marches over and helps Bellamy back to his feet. “Give her a break,” Murphy says quietly. “She had to stitch you back together with your sister refusing to give you blood. She’s not going to play with your life.”

 

Bellamy blinks. “Octavia… refused?”

 

Murphy nods. “At first.”

 

“Then how… how did Clarke convince her?”

 

Murphy drops his gaze to the ground. “You won’t like it.”

 

Something stills within him.

 

No. He has a feeling he won’t.

 

“How did she convince her?” Bellamy repeats, his voice weirdly even.

 

“Octavia has asked for one favor of Clarke, no questions asked.”

 

It takes Bellamy a minute to process that information. If it were Octavia when they landed on earth, he’d imagine it’d be something innocent. Simple. But Octavia in the bunker now…

 

Bellamy considers throwing up right there.

 

“She didn’t.” 

 

Murphy rolls his eyes. “You and I both know that she did.” He says, confirming his suspicions and dropping a weight in his stomach that had nothing to do with a bullet.

 

“W-Why—” Bellamy can’t even put it into words. “Why would she do that?”

 

“You know why.”

 

Murphy says it without hesitation. Without judgment. Without any caveat or sass.

 

Just fact.

 

Bellamy grips his shoulder and tells himself it’s because he’s struggling to get up.

 

It can’t be true.

 

Except Clarke was _dead_ and that turned out to be not true. He can’t believe that she’s here and she’s alive, but now she’s making deals with Octavia? He longs for the comfort and security of space, but knows this is where he must be.

 

“Listen, if I’m going to be your makeshift legs, you can’t pretend to be so dumb.” Murphy says, wrapping an arm around him. “You may be clever Bellamy, but you’re a fucking moron.”

 

“What—”

 

“I said what I said.”

 

Bellamy scoffs. “You should be nicer to me, I was shot.”

 

“Haven’t we all been shot at this point? Find your own thing.” Murphy smirks, leading him out of the cave.

 

“Everything okay?” Raven asks when they reach the open sunlight. “You guys took a little while.”

 

“Totally. Just informing Bellamy that he’s an idiot.”

 

Raven rolls her eyes. “And the award for the most obvious news goes to?”

 

“Shut up.” Bellamy grumbles.

 

He winces as they make their way forward, distracting himself at how beautiful the valley is. Bellamy forgets this often, in a world made up of such violence and ugliness. He forgets in the bloodshed there is beauty in the way the sun hits the trees. In the way the wind blows on his face. In the colors of the sky and the leaves on the ground.

 

It wraps around him and for the first time in years, he feels like he’s finally _home_. Earth, despite it’s place as the battleground of humans, is beautiful.

 

Nonetheless, the trek is hard. Indra leans on Kane for support while Clarke holds her mother’s hand, steadying her through the shakes. Bellamy finds Madi sneaking glances his way again, except this time, instead of fire and anger, he finds nothing but guilt. She continues to do so and when Clarke notices, she whispers something in her ear this time, tilting her head in his direction.

 

“Murphy, do you mind giving me a moment?” Bellamy asks, heaving himself off Murphy’s shoulder.

 

Murphy is clearly unconvinced. “In what world would that be a good idea?”

 

He nods at Madi, who is awkwardly shuffling over. “It won’t be long.”

 

Murphy opens his mouth to argue, but once he sees Madi hovering close to where they are, he sighs. “I’ll be a couple feet behind you to catch your damsel in distress ass when you faint.”

 

“You’re such a charmer, Murphy.”

 

As soon as Murphy steps back, Madi sneaks next to him, offering him her shoulder. Bellamy can’t help but chuckle. “That’s okay Madi, I’ve got it.”

 

Madi doesn’t say anything for a while. In fact, Bellamy tries to subtly catch Murphy’s eye because walking on his own is much more painful than he anticipated and he may need his help soon. Just when he’s about to give up, Madi states, “I’m sorry, Bellamy.”

 

“Madi,” Bellamy breathes, unable to comprehend the guilt in the voice of the preteen.

 

“I-I was so busy being mad at you, I wasn’t paying attention. I… I got trapped. And you got hurt.”

 

“Madi, that’s not your fault.” Bellamy insists, but that seems to only make it worse.

 

Madi’s face scrunches up, her lip trembling. “But it is! I was mad that you took the tape. I was mad that you played it and Clarke got hurt again. I was… I wished you guys never came down here!”

 

The admission – while unsurprising – takes Bellamy aback a bit. “Madi,”

 

“Everything has been so much worse since you guys came down here. Since you opened the bunker. It reminds me of that story Clarke said you liked so much – Pandora’s Box. Everything awful is spilling out and it’s hurting everyone.” Madi lifts her head to him, her eyes swimming with tears. “Do you regret it?”

 

Bellamy blinks. “Regret what?”

 

“Opening the bunker.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t answer right away. Because a thoughtful question like that deserves a thoughtful answer. “No,” he says carefully. “No, I don’t regret opening it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because we don’t have control of what other people are going to do, Madi.” Bellamy says. “It’s like me getting shot. Madi, did you have the gun?”

 

“No, but—”

 

“Did you pull the trigger?”

 

“No, but—”

 

“Did you ask them to shoot me?”

 

“No, _but_ —”

 

“No, Madi. There aren’t any caveats here.” Bellamy states firmly. “You cannot feel guilty for something you neither did, nor wished. I…” Bellamy sucks in a breath. “I can’t control what Octavia thinks or does. I never could. If I’m being honest with you, Madi, I used to think if I kept her hidden from all the bad – the violence, the guys – maybe she’d have a chance at being happy, you know. I only wanted to protect her. But how did that make me different than sticking her underground?”

 

Madi’s lip trembles again.

 

“We can’t control what people are doing. What we can control is how we react and how we can use our own lives to affect others for the better. I know Clarke told you stories about our time on earth. And I don’t know the detail she went into, but she and I… both made choices that weren’t what we should’ve. That comes at a price. A price you can’t pay back with anything but time and doing the right thing. So we try and learn, move forward, and do more good than harm in the future.”

 

Madi seems to really ponder that. She then states carefully, “Clarke told me about the bad things. But she said that you did the best you could – and it was only when you were together that you actually did.”

 

Bellamy gazes at Clarke’s back, where she’s marching close to Raven, the two chatting back and forth. His mind wanders to everything they’ve done – the good, the bad, the… heartbreaking.

 

Every moment he felt out of sync, every moment he felt like may collapse upon himself, he realizes when Clarke was there. There was something missing, something that even his subconscious knew wasn’t right. And yet… it took being separated at the end of the world for him to even realize.

 

“Yeah,” he breathes, his gaze fixated on Clarke. “She’s right.” He barely registers his pain for a moment. Because he’s staring at Clarke, the sun illuminating her hair like it’s on fire and blinding him.

 

“We are better together.”

 

***

 

The hike back to Polis is long and painful. By the time they reach the outskirts of the city, it’s deserted, like no one was ever there. Even the usual stragglers that would sit on the streets are gone, the wasteland nothing but that. “This isn’t the beginning of a horror at all,” Murphy breathes, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat in all its truthfulness.

 

“We should go into the bunker.” Clarke states. “See what’s going on. Mom, why don’t you and Kane stay with Indra topside.” Kane lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on her clear, ‘Let’s not piss Octavia off further by showing her your face.’ She turns to Bellamy. “What are the chances you’ll not exert yourself and stay up here?”

 

Bellamy smirks, unable to help himself. “When have I ever listened to you?”

 

Clarke groans, rolling her eyes. He barely hears her mutter under her breath, “Good god, it’s like having two children.”

 

He catches Madi’s eyes and winks. She hides a giggle and he can’t help but be pleased, since she barely spoke a word the rest of the hike back.

 

“Okay, let’s go.”

 

Bellamy appreciates the fact that Clarke is so focused on the next step. He wonders aimlessly what life would’ve been like if they were able to have a break. Be… kids. Storm and demand they get their childhoods back and laugh at the ridiculous.

 

Except tomorrow was never kinder.

 

And the lack of kindness made Clarke strong and brave, but took too much.

 

Maybe it did for all of them.

 

Murphy heaves a groan when he helps Bellamy down in the bunker, Bellamy muttering an apology without any spice as he does so. Murphy’s sweating and clearly tired from dragging him around the ground, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He merely tells him to fuck off about it and helps lower him further.

 

As soon as they are below ground, they hear the shouting.

 

The screaming.

 

The chanting.

 

It’s like a physical presence, the violent shrieks grow and Bellamy knows that whatever is at the pit, he’s not ready for. But he can hear the chains rattling, he can hear the declarations of death resounding, he can _hear Death entering_.

 

Because Death doesn’t care if you are a good person or not.

 

It merely takes you away.

 

When they reach the pit, Murphy gags next to him, the smell of blood and bile reaching their nostrils like a force. They can barely see what’s happening but manage to squeeze their way through, Bellamy wincing at the nudges in his side. He’s not sure if he wants to see what’s happening, and when he does, he knows he doesn’t.

 

Bodies litter the ground. Only a few people are left standing among the wreckage, doused with blood. In the center of the ring stands Octavia, her blade poised and splattered with the blood of her own people. _“Choose!”_ She screams and the last few charge at her.

 

It’s over quickly.

 

Raven gasps at his side as she swiped her blade with enough force to lop one of their heads clean off, then sticking it in the stomach of the last. Their tumble to the floor, stacking on top of the other bodies strewn about, as if their lives had no meaning. The head rolls next to her foot.

 

Octavia stands.

 

The Red Queen is bathed in the blood of her people, a mask of violence covering her eyes. She clears her throat.

 

“If anyone else feels like commenting on my direct orders,” Octavia states, in a low voice, gazing at the crowd staring at her from above. _“Now’s the fucking time!”_

 

“Oh my god,” Bellamy breathes, unable to keep his eyes on his sister.

 

He thinks he may be sick, turning away from the sight and covering his mouth. He sees this friends aren’t doing well with it either, dozens of Wonkru members propped on top of one another, their dead eyes staring at nothing.

 

He’s working himself into a considerable panic when Miller and Jackson rush over. “You guys made it.” Miller sighs, relieved. “When Octavia came back without you, we assumed the worst.”

 

“Abby?” Jackson asks carefully, barely able to look Clarke in the eye.

 

She gives him a soft smile. “She’s topside. We thought it’d be best if they stayed out of Octavia’s sight as much as possible.”

 

Jackson heaves a breath.

 

“Miller,” Bellamy chokes, ignoring how his words crumble. “What’s going on?”

 

Miller’s face hardens. “Blodreina gave the orders tonight. At daybreak, we’re marching onto the valley and storming the Eligius crew.”

 

Clarke’s eyes widen. “That’s suicide! Wonkru is no match for their technology – and with the bombing and whatever _that_ was, the numbers have evened out. There’s no way for victory!”

 

Miller purses his lips. “Yeah, that’s what those people thought too.”

 

Bellamy returns his attention to the dozens of dead bodies in the pit. Men, women… he even thinks he spots a few teenagers in the mix. Sucking in a breath, he tells himself he won’t be sick.

 

It’s not the first time he’s lied to himself today.

 

“Blodreina made it clear.” Miller says.

 

“We either die there, or we die here.

 

“Choose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So – I finally saw the episode and I’m trying not to be distracted by the plot. I will be honest – no worms in this fic, but YIKES.
> 
> Also, I’m bring my fav Diyoza next chapter because I LOVE HER. Every scene she’s in is GOLD.
> 
> I’m making Octavia go off the rails in a different way – she’s more concerned about losing control than losing her people and is just slipping into madness, but I’m so excited for you to see what’s to come!
> 
> I hope you like it and let me know what you think! And if you ever want to chat, please hit me up on Tumblr! I’m chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky! I have lots of feelings about this new season…


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia makes plans to attack the Eligius team and Clarke is blackmailed into helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing alright! I’ve planned it out and this fic will be a total of 15 chapters (so 5 more, including this one). The events in the cave were very intentional because of what goes down in this chapter – and preceding one.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy! Much love!

CHAPTER 11

_Clarke_

Even outside, the air is thick.

 

Clarke is outside of the tent where Abby and Kane are staying, Kane whispering soothing words to her as her detox deepens. Clarke can’t think of it too much, otherwise it may break her and there really isn’t any time for that. While Bellamy and Indra recovered in the cave, Clarke finally had an opportunity to talk to the pair of them – really _talk_ , without guns or screaming. They recounted the rise of Blodreina and the horrors that were sealed underground. In a moment of chilling clarity, Abby stopped trembling for a second and looked Clarke dead in the eyes and said, “You never should’ve released us. It was our prison for what we have done.”

 

She tries to shake those throughs from her head but hasn’t been able to.

 

After seeing the gladiator pit in action, the words hold a stronger steel to them. What kind of world are they building? There’s only a few hundred humans left and it has brought the worst in them. She remembers when she had hoped that peace and the best in people would shine, but she’s beginning to wonder if that will ever be the case. The earth has collapsed on itself twice and human still destroy.

 

“Are you going to come in?”

 

Clarke blinks. Raven steps up next to her, her arms folded as they turn to the bunker. “Do you want to sleep there?” Clarke asks humorlessly. “After what we saw?”

 

“Of course not.” Raven states. “But Bellamy and Indra have to be down there to recover. Jackson’s almost done examining both of them. He says you did an amazing job, especially under the circumstances. Both should heal just fine.”

 

Clarke releases a shaky breath. She wipes her hands on her pants when she realizes they’d been sweating. “That’s good.” She breathes. Clarke appreciates that Raven doesn’t comment on how it comes out as a prayer.

 

“We should probably go keep Bellamy company since he’s stuck down there.” Raven says. “Your mom and Kane will be fine up here. As long as they are out of Octavia’s way, they should be safe.”

 

Clarke frowns. “Bellamy should be fine, especially if Echo’s there. I should make sure my mom is alright.” Raven sighs, shoving her hands in her pockets. “What?” Clarke asks.

 

“I want to tell you something.” Raven says, making a face. “But I don’t think I should.”

 

“Uh, okay. Then don’t?”  


Raven crinkles her nose. “But I _want_ to.”

 

“Then it’s a shame you can’t tell me.” Clarke says. She’s trying to be blasé about it, but the curiosity is nibbling at her.

 

“You should go and see him, though.” Raven insists. “I know he’d want to see you, especially after everything. Plus, he mentioned something about wanting to yell at you for making a deal with Octavia.”

 

Clarke groans. “And how did he find out about that, Raven?”

 

“Don’t look at me, it was all Murphy.”

 

“You blame Murphy for everything.”

 

“True, but this time it’s actually accurate. Murphy told him about it. Probably around the same time he was bullying him with emotions. What is the deal with you two anyways?”

 

Clarke shrugs. “Murphy and I have an understanding.”

 

Raven sighs. “So bizarre. Well, I have to say, it’s nice to see him act like his old self again. He struggled on the Ring.”

 

“Why? I don’t understand – he had Emori, he had you guys.”

 

Raven shrugs. “Who even understands half the things that go on in his brain? I also think he missed you a lot. I don’t think even he realized how much you meant to him until you weren’t there.” Raven nudges her shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She sighs.

 

Clarke can’t help but smile to herself.

 

“I know everything sucks and we’re on the brink of war again and it would’ve probably been in our best interest to stay in space, but I don’t regret it at all. That means we got you back.”

 

Clarke smirks. “Raven Reyes, are you saying that I’m the cost of war?”

 

“Worth it.”

 

Clarke realizes that the two of them have been idly going closer and closer to the bunker and groans. “Is this how you’re making me go in? You’re giving me compliments and herding me like a sheep?”

 

“Is it working?”

 

“Well, obviously.”

 

Raven tilts her head back and laughs, a clear and bright sound that’s a rarity these days. “Listen, you don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. And I know you and Bellamy have your ups and downs constantly. But please… don’t avoid him. I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but I’m sure it’s complicated and well-reasoned. I bet you have a million reasons as to why you want to keep your distance from him. But we thought you were dead for six years. And I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but Bellamy was completely useless for the first three. He took on your death like a badge and I think… I think he’s still wearing it.”

 

Clarke can’t look at her. Can’t respond.

 

“I understand if you feel out of place or uncomfortable. But please – be there. You don’t have to talk or anything. Just be there?”

 

Clarke doesn’t respond, but continues forward.

 

She knew logically everything would change in six years, but is still struggling with it nonetheless. She walked this planet by herself for years and now she doesn’t even recognize it. Clarke’s lost her home. And now doesn’t belong anywhere.

 

Raven slips her hand into Clarke’s and hesitates before the stairs into the bunker. “Ready?” She asks.

 

“No, but yes.” Clarke says, every self-preservation instinct screaming at her not to go into the bunker.

 

Raven and Clarke enter hand-in-hand, the stench of death and blood seeping in the concrete. Clarke tries not to look inside the pit, but they have to walk right past it. Body parts are still strewn about, members of Wonkru dragging their fallen comrades away from the center of the floor, streaking blood on the ground. Raven gags at her side as they watch the soldiers smear brain matter with it, the smell thick and all consuming.

 

Neither of them says anything as they pass, the Wonkru soldiers shoulders slumped as they do so. Clarke remembers counting more then twenty people lost in the Blodreina-driven massacre of her own people. She can feel the dissent rolling off of the soldiers in waves, but they say nothing.

 

Nothing can stop the natural disaster wreckage of Blodreina.

 

When they make it to the medical room, Jackson has his hands up and trying to reason with Indra. “You need to stay off your leg if you ever want it to heal—”

 

“While I’m aware of that, there is a war council about to start that I need to be present for.” Indra states, her jaw clenched. “Our army is about to be marched to their deaths unless someone can stop it from happening.”

 

“No one will be able to stop this from happening.” Miller says from the corner of the room. His bruises have faded into a sickly green color and he no longer walks with a limp, but Clarke can tell he’s still in a considerable amount of pain. He winces whenever someone shuffles against his side and frowns when anyone nudges his shoulder. “You didn’t see Blodreina’s face when she got back from the mission. She’s out for blood after the attack in the valley. Blood must have blood.”

 

“There will be blood, except it won’t be the Eligius crew.” Clarke states, stepping forward. Everyone startles at her voice, turning their attention to the two of them. “This isn’t a war that can be won. Wonkru no longer has the numbers, they have outdated technology, and there are people who oppose it. There’s no way this can be successful.”

 

“You saw what happened when people questioned Blodreina’s decision.” Miller says. “No one can convince her of changing her mind. They’ll just end up in the pit.”

 

Clarke sighs. “I think Indra’s right.”

 

Jackson frowns, opening his mouth to argue.

 

“She _needs_ to be there.” Clarke continues before he can. “Indra’s clearly the only person who Octavia will at least hear out. Without Indra there, they’ll be marching before anyone can do anything about it.”

 

“So it’s settled.” Indra states, not even pausing as Jackson’s hands still hover above her. “Clarke, will you accompany me?”

 

Clarke’s startled by this request. Before she can formulate an answer, she sees a figure shift in the bed next to Indra, wincing as they do so. Clarke knows what Bellamy’s going to say before he even opens his mouth. “Absolutely not.” He snaps.

 

“Sit still, Bellamy.” Jackson orders calmly. “You’ll pull your stitches. Honestly, you two are the most exhausting patients.”

 

“She shouldn’t go.” Bellamy insists, ignoring Jackson. “Because Clarke made the _idiotic_ decision—”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“—of trading a favor with Octavia and we have no idea what that’ll be. Clarke, you need to stay away from Octavia as much as possible until we find a way around this war.”

 

“If you think Octavia is going to allow that, you’re sorely mistaken Bellamy.” Indra states. “Your sister knows that Clarke is the one advantage we have here. She’s been on this planet and knows the ins and outs more than anyone else. There is no way she’s going to allow Clarke to remain in the background.”

 

“Then we should hide her!”

 

“Um, ‘she’ is right here and will decide what ‘she’ wants to do.” Clarke snaps, annoyed. “Indra’s right. Octavia will not let me just sit on the sidelines.”

 

“I swear to god, Clarke—”

 

“She is right, Bellamy _._ ” Clarke insists, finally turning her full attention to Bellamy. He’s still a bit pale, but she’s relieved to see some of the color come back into his cheeks. She could barely even look at him since she begged him to stay in the world and every time she gazes at her hands, all she sees is his blood still dripping down her fingers. A part of her knows that it’ll never truly go away. “We need to convince Octavia to release Diyoza so she can help. We need to see if we can stall this ridiculous plan long enough to come up with a better one.”

 

“We have a better one, the sensors—”

 

“Wonkru members died trying to set the sensors.” Indra cuts Bellamy off. “She will not revisit that plan. Clarke, we should go now.”

 

Clarke nods.

 

“Clarke, come on, please—” Bellamy states, wheezing as he tries to turn himself to clamber off the bed. Raven rushes over to him and pushes him back down.

 

“Idiot, what are you doing?”

  
Clarke frowns at this. In the corner Clarke sees Echo resisting the urge to go over to him. She catches Echo’s eye as she surveys this odd interaction. Echo is stoic, but she clearly loves Bellamy. The distance makes no sense to her, unless…

 

Unless.

 

Echo nods, as if reading her mind. Clarke’s eyes widen at this, turning her attention back to Raven shoving Bellamy back into bed. She tries to keep her expression as neutral as she can, relieved to have the distraction of the two close friends swearing at each other.

 

“Indra.” Clarke nods. “Let’s go.”

 

She offers Indra her shoulder, which the woman takes. Jackson, while grumbling and unhappy, gives her a crutch for her other hand. “Sit down if you can.” He states. “And try not to get into any fights that’ll make it worse.”

 

“Are you questioning my impulse control, Jackson?” Indra asks.

 

“No, I’m questioning hers.” He states, nodding at Clarke. “It’s been six years, but I remember everything, Clarke.”

 

Clarke can’t help but snort. “Six years is a long time, Jackson. I’ve mellowed.”

 

“Didn’t you kill, like, four Eligius members when they first landed?”  


Clarke coughs. “So, war council?”

 

Jackson’s eyes narrow.

 

“Clarke!” She doesn’t want to stop at Bellamy’s shout, but feels forced to, surrounded by everyone. “Just… someone else can go. Just… stay.”

 

Clarke offers him a sad smile. “We both know that’s not true.”

 

Without giving him an opportunity to retort, she moves out of the room with Indra. They walk in silence through the bunker, Indra directing Clarke now and again. “He’s not wrong, you know.” Indra says surprisingly.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Bellamy. You know what going to this council will do.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Are you willing to enter this world again, Clarke?”

 

Clarke doesn’t even have to think about it. “We don’t put ourselves into leadership because we want power. We do it because we want the power to help those who cannot help themselves.”

 

Indra sighs. “You’re a dangerous woman to Octavia, Clarke.”

 

Clarke frowns. “How so?”

 

“The person who wants to lead because it’ll bring them power is dangerous because they will do whatever it takes to remain in control, even using fear and violence. The person who does not want to lead but does so for the greater good does not need to convince because people will follow, hope breaking through the fear.”

 

“Indra—”

 

“If people see you standing up to Octavia, there will be more than just Eligius to worry about.” Indra states. “Be careful with what you do and say, Clarke Griffin. Make sure Octavia doesn’t turn her attention to you as her number one enemy.”

 

When they enter the war council room, everyone is already standing around the table. Octavia narrows her eyes at Clarke, but when she sees Indra, they soften. “Indra,” Octavia says, her words stilted. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

 

“Yes, I was very fortunate.” Indra returns.

 

Clarke helps her to a chair by the table, Indra letting out a sigh of relief once she does so. “I hope you don’t mind my joining this council meeting, Blodreina.” Clarke begins diplomatically. “I thought I could lend my expertise of the valley if needed.”

 

“Thank you, Clarke.” Octavia says carefully. “Perhaps one of these days you’ll reconsider your decision to join Wonkru.”

 

Clarke doesn’t respond because she isn’t sure any sort of response would be safe under the given circumstances.

 

Octavia leans closer to the table. “We’re going to attack from all sides.” She states, placing her hands on the map. “They may have superior technology, but we are a trained army. From what we’ve learned from Shaw and my interrogations with Diyoza, the northeast corner is a blind spot. And if we attack at dark when they have nothing more than a few guards posted, we’ll be able to attack with the element of surprise. Raven and Shaw were able to get control of their radios and security cameras through their ship, so we’ll be able to see what is going on without them knowing.”

 

“Octavia—” Clarke starts and Octavia throws her a glare that stops her in her tracks. “I’m sorry, Blodreina. I have to request one more attempt to get the sensors on the other side of the valley. The numbers are no longer in our favor here. The armies are about equal and there will be the potential to harm the valley in the process. It’s not only our own lives to worry about, but the land itself.”

 

“Clarke, you saw what happened with the sensors.” Octavia snaps. “We all could’ve been slaughtered. But we also learned something from that trip. They may have superior technology, but they are inferior fighters. They could’ve easily wiped us out, but we managed to make it back.”

 

“But there was still loss of life—”

 

“All of me for all of us.” Octavia states. “Wonkru knows sacrifices must be made for Wonkru to return home.”

 

“But—”

 

“This is not up for debate!” Octavia shouts, slamming her fists on the table. Clarke flinches at the force of it, snapping her mouth shut. “And unless you want to find yourself in the pit, I suggest you stop talking. There is no one to save you here, Clarke.”

 

Clarke steals a glance at Indra, who looks stricken. It’s in this moment she realizes that they’ve walked into a losing battle. Indra doesn’t even try to talk sense into Octavia because you cannot demand something that doesn’t exist within a person. Instead, Clarke listens as she commands people around her, sectioning off Wonkru into parties that will take different places of the valley. Clarke can’t help but wonder if they know they would all be slaughtered by this time tomorrow.

 

“Clarke, I’d like you to go with me.”

 

Startled at the call of her name, Clarke says, “I’m sorry?”

 

Octavia repeats, “I’d like you to be a part of my team. We’ll be going in after the northeast crew, once they clear the area for us.”

 

Clarke’s eyes narrow. “I’m not a part of Wonkru.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Are you calling in your favor?” Clarke asks.

 

The two women don’t blink. Clarke knows this is a suicide mission and joining Octavia will be the last time she walks into the valley. Walks anywhere. A small part of Octavia must know this as well, because her lips curl up. “Only if you force my hand.”

 

That response is surprising. “Why would I volunteer for something I think is a losing battle?”

 

“Because, if you do this for me, I will make sure no one touches your mother or Kane.”

 

Clarke almost gasps.

 

Octavia’s grin broadens. “You and I both know that all I have to do is give the order and they are executed on the spot. They are both traitors who have committed crimes against Wonkru. However, given your cooperation, I’ll waive their transgressions and they’ll be allowed to stay. Otherwise, I will call in my favor and execute them before you can even get topside.”

 

Clarke grows cold. She can feel Indra’s eyes upon her and suddenly, her legs don’t seem to be attached to her anymore. She merely exists, her heart palpitating in her chest as she opens her mouth.

 

“Okay.”

 

The word is husky, as if she’d been sobbing.

 

Final.

 

Clarke clears her throat. “But we bring Diyoza.”

 

Octavia snarls. “She is the enemy. She is to be executed tonight. She’s outlived her usefulness.”

 

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Clarke states. “She’s been living in the valley and knows the adjustments that I don’t. She knows the technology. Most importantly, she knows the people. That’s valuable information we can’t sacrifice for rigid law.”

 

Octavia’s jaw clenches. Clarke knows that Octavia knows she’s right, but can see her contemplation of arguing for arguing sake.

 

“Fine.” Octavia concedes.

 

Straightening up, Octavia unsheathes her sword. She glowers at everyone around the table, all of whom join her. Indra tries to stand, struggling as she does so, so Clarke offers help. Once everyone has risen, Octavia clears her throat.

 

“We have been buried underground for far too long. We have been in hiding from the valley for far too long. Once the sun sets, we will take back what is rightfully ours. We will bathe the valley in the blood of the Eligius crew and show this planet once and for all who rules it. _Kom folau, oso na gyon op._ ”

 

Swords and cheers meet her words.

 

***

 

Clarke grabs her rifle, running her fingers down the strap covered with the names of those fallen. She takes a gasping breath to try and hold back the tears that are threatening to come toward her. The fear is eating at her stomach like a parasite, striking her in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. Every stupid thing she has done, she has done for her friends. She’s fought along side them, healed their wounds, and mourned their losses.

 

And now?

 

Now she’s ready to die among strangers for a cause she doesn’t agree with.

 

Placing her hands on her lap, Clarke feels the blood of all the lives she’s taken. All the choices she’s made that have been met with death. Everyone carved on the strap of her rifle and the thousands she didn’t know.

 

For hands meant to create, they often drew blood.

 

“Clarke, what are you doing?”

 

Clarke flinches when she hears the voice, small and scared. She looks to where Madi has entered their room, her brows pulling down in confusion as she watches Clarke pack her backpack. “Madi, listen—”

 

“Are you going with them?” Madi cuts her off. “Are you marching with Octavia to the valley?”

 

Clarke wants to lie. She wants to spare the child the pain of what she has to do. What she has to do for her mother – for Kane. Every time she makes a decision, someone gets hurt. She doesn’t know how to shield anyone from it, doesn’t know how to stop it. She desperately wants to lie. But she can’t.

 

“Yes.” Clarke says.

 

Madi’s eyes start watering. “B-But you said that… y-you said that it was a suicide mission. T-That there’s no way Octavia can win.”

 

Clarke sighs, walking to her and wrapping an arm around her. “There’s always hope, Madi. There’s always hope.”

 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

 

“No.” Clarke snaps.

 

“I have to come with you—”

 

“You are absolutely not coming with me.” Clarke demands, her voice as firm as she can make it when she’s so close to breaking. “War is no place for a child.”

 

“But I can help!” Madi insists, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m a good fighter, you know I am! I can—”

 

Clarke places her hand up to stop the stream of words pouring out of her mouth. “Madi, you can’t follow me this time. But I will return to you.”

 

“B-But what if you don’t?”

 

Clarke tries to hide the way Madi’s broken questions cracks her resolve. “I will always be with you, Madi, even if I’m not here. I would do anything to protect you. We’ve been alone for such a long time, just the two of us.”

 

“W-We’re a team.”

 

“Yeah,” Clarke smiles. “We’re a team. But now our team has gotten bigger. And they will make sure your safe.”

 

“But I want you.”

 

“I’m here,” Clarke states, placing her hand over Madi’s heart. “And here.” She points to her temple. “It’s like I’ve always said, you need a balance of your heart and head to survive in this world. I will always be in both.”

 

Madi’s face crumbles and she starts to cry, placing her hands over her face. Clarke squeezes her closer, allowing herself a few tears to escape. “Besides, you’re going to have to watch Bellamy for me. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, like try to follow us.”

 

“Maybe I should let him and then I can come with.”

 

Clarke chuckles. “I’ll sick Raven on the both of you. You’ll never stand a chance.”

 

Madi continue to cry, but doesn’t say anything else.

 

Neither does Clarke. Instead, she gives herself a small sanctuary with her family. The one person she’s had for six years.

 

The only person who truly deserves the valley.

 

***

 

When Clarke enters the medical room for the second time, she’s greeted to a tension that nearly sends her reeling. The group had been talking in hushed tones when she enters, shouldering her backpack and rifle. They turn their attention to her. Bellamy frowns from his hospital bed, taking in Clarke as if she were a puzzle. “Why do you have your rifle?” He asks suspiciously, his hand reaching out to grab the end of the bed as if he’s about to jump up.

 

Clarke peers at Indra and lifts an eyebrow. Indra states, “I didn’t think it should come from me.”

 

Tilting her chin up slightly, Clarke states with as little emotion as she can bear, “I’m going with Wonkru tonight.”

 

The reaction is explosive.

 

Bellamy shouts something unintelligible from his bed, immediately trying to jump up while Jackson shoves him back down. Raven storms over to where she is and grabs her arm, snapping, “What the hell are you thinking?” while Murphy swipes across a table and throws something onto the ground.

 

The only one with a calm demeanor is Echo, who merely asks, “Why would you do something so foolish?”

 

Clarke sighs. “I have to.”

 

Bellamy snaps under Jackson’s grip. “Octavia called in her favor, didn’t she?” He seethes. “Maybe I can talk to her, maybe I can—”

 

“No, she didn’t.”

 

“You did this _willingly?_ ” Murphy cries, aghast. “I thought Bellamy was the brainless idiot of this duo!”

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Really, Murphy?”

 

Murphy barely pays attention. “What the fuck are you thinking? We all know that Wonkru can’t win this war!”

 

Clarke takes a couple deep breaths. With as even of a voice as she can, she states, “Octavia is willing to grant my mom and Kane immunity if I join them. They need my expertise of the valley. It’s their best shot. If I don’t go, she’ll execute them. There’s nothing we’d be able to do to stop it.”

 

Shaw rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “This is probably a good time to say that I’ve been ordered to go as well.” He states and Raven takes a quick step forward and then stops in her tracks. “Octavia has agreed to let Diyoza go if the both of us join.”

 

“Why would you do that?” Raven snaps.

 

“I owe Diyoza my life, Raven.” Shaw states. “She could’ve killed me. I was a part of the original crew that imprisoned the miners. But she didn’t. I owe her my life.”

 

Clarke can’t help but ache for Shaw. She’s accepted that she most likely isn’t returning to Polis, but didn’t want anyone else to suffer the same fate as well.

 

“Then I’m coming too.” Raven states. “I can—”

 

“Absolutely not.” Clarke snaps.

 

“You know what, Clarke? I’m not going to listen to you here because—”

 

“Raven, we need you here.” Clarke insists. “You and Shaw managed to get the radios working, as well as surveillance on the Eligius ship, right? We need you to be our eyes. Since Shaw has to go, it has to be you.”

 

Raven snaps her mouth shut, clearly trying to come up with a counter argument. “No, _no!_ I’m not just going to sit here while you guys go and…” She trails off, her voice catching.

 

“Raven, you know you have to stay.” Clarke says gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

Raven lets out a frustrated noise, ripping herself out of Clarke’s grasp.

 

“I’m coming then.”  Clarke closes her eyes. She knew she would be hearing this from Bellamy, but had hoped it wouldn’t happen. She can see him struggling in Jackson’s grasp, his forehead covered with a sheen of sweat.

 

But she doesn’t counter it right away. Instead, she observes everyone in the room, most resolute and heartbroken. “May we have the room?” Clarke requests quietly.

 

No one argues. No one even looks surprised. Jackson even wheels Indra out, everyone filing out of the medical room until they are the only two left.

 

Clarke hesitates before closing the gap between the two of them. She can see that Bellamy already has tears in his eyes and he’s putting steel in his blood to prepare for the conversation. Suddenly, she feels uncomfortable and exposed by his intense eye contact. It’s the most intimate they’ve been since, well, since six years ago. Clarke pulls down the sleeves of her jacket as if she can hide how vulnerable she feels.

 

It doesn’t work.

 

Striding over to Bellamy’s bed, Clarke gently sits by his feet, placing a hand on his leg. “Bellamy,” she starts.

 

“No, Clarke.” Bellamy snaps, shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”

 

“Bellamy, you need to hear this.” Clarke pleads.

 

It feels like six years all over again. The sense of impending dread is almost a total force and Clarke wants to choke on it, but tells herself she can’t. “Clarke, I’m never going to be okay with you following Octavia in this pointless war. I’m never going to just let you walk into a war you can’t win.” Bellamy says. “I’m never going to be okay with you leaving to die.”

 

“I may not,” Clarke offers. “I’ve been quite good at keeping myself alive. With your help.” She says with a grin.

 

“And I’m going to help now.” Bellamy says, leaning forward.

 

“No, you’re not.” Clarke states, placing a hand on his chest to push him back down. He leans into the contact instead of recoiling like she expected, and she can’t bring herself to remove it.

 

Six years.

 

Six years without her best friend. Six years without her closest confidant. Six years without another adult. Six years without touching another soul. Six years without a partner.

 

Everything she thought she would say to him, everything she thought she would argue, goes out of her head. They’re too close, his face is too close and his eyes too earnest, and Clarke can’t think straight. All she can do is shake her head to match his. They deserved better and received nothing but war and blood. “Clarke, please don’t do this.” Bellamy begs, his voice low. “Please, we can’t lose you again. I-I can’t… I can’t—"

 

That’s when she knows that she’s won.

 

“You know I have to.”

 

“You don’t though. We’ll figure out another way to save Abby and Kane. W-We’ll…” His words cut off and he squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears escaping.

 

Without thinking too much about it, Clarke reaches and places a hand on his cheek, wiping a stray tear away and leaving her hand there. Her heart is beating too quickly in her chest and she is transported to six years ago – the last moment she ever saw Bellamy. _“Hurry”_ plays over and over in her head, screaming that there were so many other things she could’ve said. That she _wanted_ to say. But she thought that they would have more time – five years of time – for her to be brave. Except time was stolen from her.

 

Without letting herself overthink it, she puts her other hand on the opposite side of his face and pulls him close. Their foreheads touch and she can feel his breath on her mouth, ragged and heavy. With a quick movement, she closes the gap and presses her lips onto his.

 

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it.

 

He reaches up and puts a hand on the back of her head as if to pull her closer, like there is still too much space between the two of them. She meant it to be quick, short and filled with things she never found the courage to say, but the moment his lips were on his, she found herself _wanting_. She draws him as close as she possibly can, her fingers raking against his hair as his arms wrap around her, as if he can keep her there with him.

 

Clarke breaks first, telling herself she has to stop if she’s ever going to leave.

 

But she keeps her eyes closed, listening as they try to catch their breath, a seemingly small gesture morphing into something far greater than she ever expected. Clarke wants to stay in this moment, a place where she feels safe for the first time in years. Except the outside world is calling and they were never given a kind option.

 

“Clarke—” Bellamy says his voice raspy and thick.

 

Before she can allow herself to be dragged further, Clarke manages to mutter, their foreheads pressed against one another, “May me we meet again.”

 

His hands don’t leave her hair, though. He holds her there like and anchor, refusing to let her leave safe harbor. Except that’s not what ships are made for.

 

Clarke leans in one last time, putting her lips on his firmly. It’s everything she wanted to do in the first one, short and controlled.

 

A goodbye.

 

She untangles her fingers from his hair and stands. Bellamy gazes up at her, his eyes filled with tears that match her own. She nods to him, taking a few steps backwards so there was enough distance between the two of them so he couldn’t draw her back in.

 

Turning around, Clarke marches out of the medical bay before he can do or say anything that would cause her to throw logic out the window. As she passes through the door, she hears the soft, broken words.

 

_“May we meet again.”_

 

***

 

Clarke marches next to Shaw and Diyoza, her rifle across her chest, hands ready for whatever comes to them. She hasn’t said much since they left, but neither has Shaw or Diyoza. They’re far enough from Octavia to where they don’t have to worry terribly about her overhearing, but Clarke finds herself not wanting to say anything. She feels the ghosts of Bellamy’s lips and hands on her, his eyes boring into her soul.

 

It stays.

 

Shaw nudges her side. “We’ve got your back.” He says to her. “I think between the three of us, we can figure out how to survive this.”

 

Diyoza scoffs. Her face is littered with bruises and cuts, but her firm resolve remains as if she hadn’t felt the wrath of Wonkru. “I’ve always admired your optimism, Shaw, even if it’s wildly misplaced.”

 

Clarke can’t help but snort at that.

 

“Don’t lie, you love it.” Shaw states, but he can’t even purge the fear out of his joking tone.

 

“It’s too bad,” Diyoza states.

 

“What?” Shaw asks.

 

“I think in a different life, Clarke and I would’ve gotten along.”

 

Clarke shrugs. “I think we can get along in this life. I promise not to attack you again.”

 

“What a great foundation for friendship.”

 

“I thought so.”

 

The radio in Clarke’s backpack crackles. _“Clarke, it’s Raven, do you copy?”_

 

Clarke pulls it from her side pocket. “Yeah. Everything okay?”

 

_“We wanted to make sure we could still reach you in this range.”_

“We?”

 

_“You are out of range of the security cameras.”_

Bellamy’s voice comes across the radio, startling Clarke. “Shouldn’t you be in the medical bay?”

 

_“A lot of people should and shouldn’t be doing things, but here we are.”_

Diyoza snorts. “That’s the most passive aggressive thing I’ve heard in a very long time. Bravo.”

 

Clarke ignores her. “How’s everything looking?”

 

 _“Clear so far.”_ Raven takes over and Clarke can hear her typing in the background. _“All Wonkru teams are getting closer to their attack points. So far, no encounters.”_

“Great. Keep us posted.”

 

 _“You too.”_ Bellamy’s back, his voice hard. _“Check in every half an hour.”_

“Half an hour? That’s excessive—”

 

_“Every half an hour. Otherwise we’re going to assume the worst and have to send another team in.”_

Shaw makes a face. “What other team, everyone’s here.”

 

Clarke shoots him a nasty look, but sighs. “Every half an hour.”

 

_“And Clarke? Be safe.”_

 

The radio crackles and goes silent.

 

Diyoza smirks. “I have to hand it to him. He’s got a bizarre balance of being in control and out of control at the same time.”

 

With a huff, Clarke pockets the radio.

 

The three make idle conversation as they travel, keeping themselves calm as they do so. However, once they reach the edge of the valley, Octavia puts her hand up. With a quick check in to Raven, Clarke says quickly, “We’re about to head in.”

 

_“Be safe.”_

 

Octavia leads the group, quietly sliding within the bushes of the valley. Clarke tries to ignore how her heart begins to race, every noise being amplified in the quiet darkness. Her hands are still against her rifle, but every self-preservation instinct is telling her to run. “Raven,” she whispers into the radio. “Are we in your line of sight yet? Speak quietly.”

 

 _“No, but I can see the other groups.”_ Raven states. _“Still no sign of Eligius.”_

 

Diyoza frowns. “That doesn’t make sense. We had sentries posted at every corner of the valley. Raven should be able to see them from the cameras.”

 

Fear creeps up Clarke’s spine. “Octavia,” she whispers, marching forward to catch up. “Something’s not right. Raven says no one has encountered any of the crew.”

 

Octavia smiles. “Perhaps without their leader, they’ve grown sloppy.”

 

“Prisoners adapt to every situation.” Diyoza states. “It would be foolish to think they wouldn’t do that here too.”

 

Clarke brings the radio up. “Raven, do you see anything at all? Any movement?”

 

_“No, I-I’m looking, but it—”_

That’s when the ground explodes.

 

Clarke’s thrown backwards by the force of it, her head slamming against the ground. Dazedly blinking, she can’t hear anything around her, but thinks people may be yelling. There’s a buzzing in her ears that she can’t get rid of, the earth nothing more than a blur.

 

When it finally comes back into focus, she gasps at the burned spot on the ground, a member of Wonkru’s mouth open and screaming, his hands wrapped around what the stump that used to be his leg. Even with the muffle of buzzing clouding her hearing, Clarke crawls over to him, blood seeping everywhere. “You’re going to be okay,” Clarke breathes, her hearing slowly returning. “You’re going to be okay.”

 

_“Clarke, what happened?”_

 

Clarke barely hears the crackle of the radio and the frantic voice on the other side, but she can’t remove her hands from where she’s pressed them against a wound on the man’s chest.

 

_“Clarke, report, what happened?!”_

Clarke whirls to find Shaw, who’s on the ground with his arm over Diyoza. “Shaw, can you please answer them?” She cries as the radio screams grow louder.

 

The moment he stands, there’s a loud shot that resounds in the woods and he’s struck, collapsing to the ground. Shaw cries out, grabbing his shoulder where’s he’s been hit, blood seeping through his fingers.

 

Before Clarke can react, the bullets rain down on them. “It was a trap!” Someone shouts, grabbing Octavia and pulling her to the ground and shielding her head. “Retreat!”

 

But all Clarke can hear is screaming and the sounds of landmines exploding all around her and in the depths of the valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And, the war… 
> 
> I’m really excited for the remaining chapters because it’s officially on the downward spiral! :P 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter – I really enjoyed writing this one as well.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and the rest of the surviving members in Polis look for survivors in the Wonkru massacre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you’re doing great!
> 
> I want to warn you: there is a lot of swearing in this one, especially in the first scene. Murphy and Bellamy have some words… and not a lot are appropriate. 
> 
> Also, I’d like to point out that I have NOT seen tonight’s episode, so there’s no callbacks from that here. I heard the ending is crazy though. :)

CHAPTER 12

_Bellamy_

“Clarke?”

 

He’s gripping the radio until his knuckles turn white. No one says anything. He’s not even sure anyone is breathing. They simply huddle near him, craning their necks as if that would help them hear words that aren’t coming.

 

“Clarke!” He repeats, his hands shaking. “Clarke, answer me! _Clarke!_ ”

 

All that responds is faint crackling.

 

“Guys,” Raven chokes, her attention turning to the screen. Various security cameras around the valley are up on the large screen in the control room, filming six separate areas. Bellamy turns his attention upward, squeezing the radio so tightly that he starts to lose feeling in his fingers.

 

Each screen is filled with violence and smoke. Bellamy watches in horror as mines explode on the screens, Wonkru soldiers flying as smoke covers them like a cloak. As the disoriented groups scramble for their weapons – and limbs – the prisoners descend upon them with rifles, blasting those that remain moving.

 

It’s as if time stops.

 

Then it’s over in an instant.

 

The screens are still, the only movement the smoke from the bombs and the faint rustle of wind in the leaves. Bellamy can’t believe his eyes. He tells himself over and over again that it isn’t real. It isn’t real. He waits for Wonkru to move – for _someone_ to _move_ – but nothing happens. He tries to find Octavia and Clarke’s group, but they weren’t anywhere near the security cameras.

 

Bringing the radio up to his mouth, he presses the button one final time. “Clarke, please…”

 

There’s no response.

 

“They knew we were coming.” Indra says, limping closer to the screen. “That’s why they didn’t attack again after the bombing. They were waiting for us to come to them. They didn’t have to do anything, they simply waited for Octavia to bring the fight to them. They were like lambs being brought to slaughter.”

 

He’s barely registering her words. This can’t be it. It’s can’t… she can’t.

 

Bellamy has already survived the end of the world once. He watched the Death Wave consume the planet and destroy everything that was once safe. It took weeks to prepare for the end of the world.

 

Now?

 

It’s the end of the world again and it only took minutes.

 

“I should be there,” he vaguely hears Indra grumble beside him. “I should be with them.”

 

“So what?” Murphy growls next to her. “So you can die too?”

 

“So I can die with my people.”

 

“There are no people left, Indra!” Murphy shouts, slamming his hand on a nearby desk. “Did you not just see what fucking happened?” Bellamy winces at his words, winces at the idea that Murphy has given up so quickly. He refuses to believe. He continues to shoot glances at the screen, his eyes playing tricks on him as he thinks someone moves. “Octavia just led your entire people to the slaughter, just as we all said she would!”

 

He takes a glass off of the desk and hurls it at the wall.

 

It’s been a while since he’s seen this side of Murphy – the unbridled, uncontrollable rage. He’s dulled himself down over the years, the time on the Ring mellowing him out as he made himself smaller.

 

Except Murphy isn’t small now. He’s giant and filled with anger, running his hands through his hair as he paces around. Emori tentatively steps up to him to put her hand on his shoulder and he jerks out of her grasp. “Stop! Stop – we should’ve taken Octavia down when we had the chance!”

 

“Murphy,” Emori says softly.

 

“No!” Murphy bellows, throwing his hands up. “She’s a psychopath who needed to be taken out, but we did _nothing!”_

 

“Shut up, Murphy!” Bellamy hollers, unable to control it anymore.

 

He. Sees. Red.

 

Everything’s bubbling up and he can’t control it. The heart and the head, the heart and the head. He repeats it over and over again, but transforming into mush. Soon, all he can hear the beating of his own heart over and over, pounding until it drowns out any sense that he once had.

 

She was right _here._

 

She was here, she was standing in front of him. He can still feel the touch of her fingers on the side of his face, he can still feel her lips brush up against his.

 

He should’ve tried harder, he should’ve held her down, forced her to stay. Except Clarke had always been like water, unable to be held, but prepared to drown anyone who tried to stop her. He held the water in his hands and she slipped away.

 

Bellamy realizes he’s clenches his fists and turned toward Murphy, his face twisted in a snarl. “How dare you.” He says in a low voice.

 

“How dare me?” Murphy repeats, his eyes narrowing. “How fucking dare _me?_ It’s your psycho sister who caused all this! _You_ were the one who was supposed to talk her down! _You_ were the one who was supposed to stop her! _Your_ sister, _your_ responsibility. That was your whole thing, right? Well, where the fuck were you?”

 

“Fuck you, Murphy!” Bellamy bellows, marching to where Murphy is, grabbing him by his collar and throwing him against the wall of the ship. His side screams in pain as he does so, but he’s so angry that he barely registers it. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” He shouts in his face, pressing him against the wall and towering over him as much as possible.

 

“Who the fuck I think I am?” Murphy snaps, shoving him backwards so he stumbles.

 

“Hey!” Jackson rushes over and pushes in between the two of them. “Bellamy, you are injured. Murphy, calm down.”

 

“You think you can just come at me like this?” Murphy shouts over Jackson’s shoulder. “Hide behind your injury?”

 

“I don’t care if I was shot, I am going to kick your ass—”

 

“I fucking dare you!” Murphy grabs Jackson’s shoulder to push past him, Miller jumping into action.

 

“Okay, no one is kicking no one ass, especially if it involves Jackson, okay?” Miller shouts, putting his hands on Murphy’s shoulders. “We’re going to calm down—”

 

“Fuck calming down! Fuck calming down—” Murphy bellows, waving his hands to get past Miller.

 

Before Bellamy can do anything further, straining against Jackson’s grip as his bullet wound starts to demand attention, Raven steps in between the two. Without a moment’s hesitation, she brings her hand back and strikes Murphy across the face.

 

The two of them are so startled, they stop resisting against Jackson and Miller. “Stop it!” Raven shouts, putting her hands up. “Enough! We don’t know if they’re dead.” Raven’s words are hard and forced, like she’s on the brink of losing it, but she’s steeled herself as she does. “And the only reason I’m not punching your lights out,” she wags a finger at Bellamy, who recoils. “is because you’re injured and currently we are very limited in people. So calm the fuck down. Now.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t want to listen to her. He wants to scream, he wants to punch Murphy in the face repeatedly until he feels better. Murphy’s glaring at him like he feels the same way. “Why? He’s already given up!” Bellamy shouts at him. “He already thinks they’re dead!”

 

“Open your eyes and look at the fucking screen, Bellamy!” Murphy snaps, gesturing wildly at the static screens filled with dead Wonkru bodies. “They _are_ dead!”

 

“I am going to kill you, Murphy!” Bellamy snaps, lunging at him only to be blocked easily by Jackson.

 

“Well, your sister isn’t here to do it, so may as well be the only other Blake that’s still alive.” Murphy seethes.

 

Miller and Jackson even startle at the cruel words, both letting their guards down. “Fuck you, Murphy!” Bellamy shouts, cocking his arm back and swinging against the side of his face. Murphy stumbles to the ground, holding his cheek where Bellamy struck him.

 

No one moves.

 

Bellamy breathes heavily, his shoulders and arms still tense, ready if Murphy stands back up. Except he doesn’t. Murphy stays on the ground, holding his face. He doesn’t move.

 

“Fuck,” Murphy breathes, cradling his face. “Fuck.”

 

Murphy sits up and leans against the wall, folding his arms across his knees. Bellamy can see the tears forming in his eyes as he runs his hands through his hair again and again, repeating the curse over and over.

 

“Murphy,” Raven says calmly, looming over him with her arms crossed. “Get the fuck up. It’s not over. Octavia followed Wonkru behind. The plan was to wait for the northeast to be cleared and they were going to go in. They could still be alive.”

 

Bellamy didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until they left Raven’s mouth. He stares at her, his hands still clenched as fists, his chest heaving. “They could.” Bellamy repeats, looking up to the screens once more. They look the same as they had the last time or the time before, but he still focuses on them. “They could be alive.”

 

Raven turns her attention to him and places her hands on his shoulders. “They could be alive.” She repeats earnestly.

 

He exhales. “They could be alive.”

 

Raven closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping him in tight hug. He leans into it, squeezing Raven closer to him, holding onto her like she’s the only thing tethering him to the world. He gives himself this opportunity to choke and breathe, each breath a little easier.

 

“Okay,” he states once they break apart. He extends a hand down to Murphy who is still sitting on the floor. Before Murphy can reach out and grab it, Miller chuckles and knocks Bellamy’s hand aside.

 

“Why don’t we let someone who’s not been shot in the past week help Murphy off the ground.” Miller offers, help Murphy up.

 

“I know, I’m too much solid muscle for you.” Murphy says with a wink. But his bravado falters and Murphy extends his hand out. “I’m sorry.” He says quietly.

 

Bellamy nods, taking his hand.

 

“Okay you two, we don’t have time for any heartfelt apologies.” Raven drawls. “We need a plan and we need it, like, now.”

 

Bellamy takes a breath. “Right. So I think it’s fair to assume that Eligius doesn’t know that they just took out the entire Wonkru army.”

 

“How can we assume that?” Monty steps forward and asks.

 

“They don’t know how many members of Wonkru were left. They know they took out some people in the Polis bombing, but they don’t know about Octavia’s ultimatum or even how many people they took out. All they know is when we opened the bunker, there were eight hundred Wonkru members and only four hundred soldiers marched. They could be waiting for a second attack, now that they’ve lost the element of surprise. We need to go now if we’re going to have any success trying to find Octavia’s group.”

 

“Bellamy—” Raven starts.

 

“There is literally nothing you can say to me that will make me not go.” Bellamy snaps over her. “So don’t even waste your breath.”

 

Miller snorts. “I don’t think anyone was even entertaining that idea. We’ve seen your crazy eyes.”

 

Raven rolls her eyes. “Seriously. I was just going to say that we could use the technology from ship. We should set up a triage center in here in case anyone wanders back.”

 

“Oh,” Bellamy states, feeling a little sheepish. “That’s a good idea.”

 

“Obviously. It came from me.” Raven says.

 

Bellamy heaves a breath. “Raven’s right. Jackson, you and Abby should set up a triage center here in case there are any survivors.” Jackson nods. “Now, I’m not going to tell anyone to come with me. But—”

 

“Don’t be an idiot, Bellamy, we’re coming with you.” Raven says, cutting him off before he can work himself into a spiral. “So just shut up and tell us the plan.”

 

Bellamy sucks in a breath. “We don’t have an opportunity to plan out something careful. We have to leave now, before Eligius discovers that they just took down the entire Wonkru army. They must be waiting for the second wave, but they won’t wait forever. Once they realize that they’ve won, they’ll come here to finish the job and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

 

Indra steps up. “I’m coming as well.”

 

Bellamy sighs. “Indra, I’m sorry but you can’t come.”

 

Indra’s hands hover over her weapon and Bellamy genuinely thinks she’s going to use it on him. “You can’t stop me, just like your friends can’t stop you.”

 

“Indra, you can barely walk. We can’t have you slow us down. We have to be as careful and quick as possible.”

 

Indra leans in close to Bellamy, so close he can feel her anger rolling off her in waves. “I will not sit idly by while my people die. I will not remain on the sidelines, Bellamy.”

 

“Indra—”

 

“No.” Indra states. “End of discussion.”

 

“Bellamy,” Monty says. “We can’t ask her to do what we refuse to do.”

 

Bellamy clenches his jaw, but sighs when he realizes Monty’s right. “Fine.”

 

“I’m coming too.”

 

A small voice calls from the back of the room, everyone turning to see Madi standing in the doorway, her hands curled around a small pistol. “Madi,” Harper says softly, taking a step closer to her.

 

Madi tilts her chin up in a very Clarke-like fashion, her gaze hard. “I’m coming to help find Clarke.”

 

Bellamy sucks in a breath. “Madi, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“I know she could be dead.” Madi says, her voice wavering. “I know that we might not be able to find her. But I’m not going to let anyone leave me behind. Not anymore. The valley is my home too.”

 

Casting a glance at Raven, Bellamy lifts his eyebrows. She doesn’t move at first, but then shrugs. Moving closer to Madi, Bellamy sighs. “Looks like everyone’s stubborn today.”

 

“We protect those we love.”

 

Bellamy it taken aback by her words. She says them with such earnest it almost takes his breath away. “Yeah,” he agrees, thinking of the way Clarke pressed her lips on his, saying things that he never thought he’d hear from her. “We protect those we love.”

 

Madi smiles, her eyes shining.

 

Standing straight, Bellamy clears his throat. “Let’s do this.”

 

He looks to everyone around him. Monty, Harper, Murphy, Raven, Echo, and Emori. Miller clutches his gun with the fierce look he gets when going into battle, Madi placing herself next to Indra. “I can’t believe we’re the last of it.” Monty states.

 

“Last of what?”

 

“Last of the 100.” He answers. Harper squeezes his shoulder as the ghosts of those who didn’t make it linger around them.

 

“Technically I wasn’t a part of the original 100.” Bellamy offers, trying for casual and missing the mark entirely.

 

Murphy scoffs. “Did you, like, shoot the Chancellor?”

 

Bellamy waves that aside. “Semantics.”

 

Raven laughs. “Seems like Madi, Indra, and I are better than all of you. No one’s surprised.” Madi beams at this and even Indra tries to hide a smirk.

 

“It’s not everyone,” Harper says suddenly. “Octavia… and Clarke.”

 

Bellamy wishes there were words that could express what he felt for those around him. Those he considered family. Those who might not survive the night. There’s nothing that could be said that wasn’t _felt_ , in the comfort of a family they built themselves.

 

The last of the 100.

 

The last of everyone.

 

***

 

It takes a while to reach the edge of the valley and when they do, there’s an eerie stillness to the land. Bellamy puts his hand up, desperately trying to ignore the pull of his stitches and the fatigue he feels simply walking across the ground. Murphy shoots him a look that seems to be a mix of concern and annoyance, which Bellamy knows is as concerned as Murphy will ever get.

 

He places a foot inside the tree line, wincing when the branches and leaves snap underneath his feet. It’s simply too quiet. Too quiet for a land that had hundreds marching on it.

 

Logically, Bellamy knew from the security footage that there were no survivors. But approaching a piece of land with no survivors is a whole other thing. They make their way through the trees of the valley, everyone holding their guns close to their chests and alert. He carefully steps through the land.

 

The first thing they get is the smell.

 

It’s a pungent force of its own. The deeper they make their way into the valley, the stronger the smell becomes. Bellamy sucks in a breath when he sees the trees strewn on the ground, their branches and stumps broken and splintered.

 

Then he sees the bodies.

 

It’s so much worse than he anticipated, even with warning. Body parts are cast onto the valley, blood seeping into the earth as humanity was finally completely ripped away from Wonkru. He carefully marches around the dead, occasionally flipping a body over to make sure that they’re dead, nearly gagging at the destruction the landmines caused.

 

He knows everyone is doing their best to keep their reaction silent, but occasionally he can hear Indra’s low voice saying, _“Yu gonplei ste odon.”_ Even if he didn’t know the members of Wonkru – even those who used to be that of Skaikru – the sense of loss is too great for even him to bear. He’s grateful Madi’s near Raven, someone who can be a pillar in the pain.

 

“We’re nearing the northeast side.” Bellamy ushers as they make their way past the Wonkru bodies. “Everyone, stay sharp and watch the ground for more mines.”

 

Everyone nods. Bellamy leads the way, his finger on the trigger of his gun as he continues forward. He only is able to take a few more paces when he’s thrown off his feet, someone charging into him with a strangled scream.

 

He struggles under the weight of prisoner on top of him, the man placing a gun to his head. Bellamy stills at the feel of the cool metal on his skin. A shot rings out and Bellamy flinches, except death isn't anything like what he expects. There's still a blinding pain in his side where the man shifts his weight on his wound and he feels like he's still in the forest. Then, Madi peers around the now-limp man on top of him. "Are you okay?" She asks, surveying Bellamy while her gun remains cocked.

 

"Uh, yeah," Bellamy responds breathlessly, shoving the now deceased man off of him. "Thanks."

 

"No problem," Madi say, offering him a hand. He feels a bit sheepish taking it, but Madi barely spares him an extra glance before she aims her gun at the tree line. Bellamy touches his side, wincing at the pain radiating from his stomach, his hands coming back wet with blood.

 

The attack comes before Bellamy can even let out a yelp.

 

The prisoners charge through the trees and the world erupts into chaos. It's louder than he expects because it was so silent just moments before, the killed prisoner at his feet as he scrambles to get up. "Miller, flank to the left! Raven - make sure Madi is out of sight!" He screams over the gunfire. 

 

The moonlight offers little to no help in the area, beams of the night sky only showing flashes of faces in the destruction. Someone charges at Bellamy's injured side, but he's able to dive out of the way, aiming the gun at his attacker's head. The man crumbles to the ground at the shot as a few more fall to his left where Echo stands. "They are out of practice with their weapons," she comments, calmly while slicing her blade across the stomach of another as if she's doing nothing more than choosing her outfit for the day. 

 

"Cryosleep for a hundred years will do that to a person!" Raven shouts, aiming her rifle at the tree line. She unloads her weapon and Bellamy can hear the prisoners falling within the shadows.

 

The woods grow silent.

 

Bellamy doesn't relax, in fact, he strains to hear the next attack, to hear the heavy footsteps sprinting toward them. It isn't until McCreary bursts through the branches does anyone make a sound, the blaster poised in his hand at the entire group. "It was a nice try," McCreary states, pulling the trigger.

 

Bellamy hears Raven gasp at his side and sees everyone tense...

 

...but nothing happens.

 

McCreary pulls the trigger again and again, but to the same result. Raven smirks. "That's the issue with solar-powered weaponry." She smirks, aiming her own gun at his head. "There's always an end."

 

With a snarl, McCreary tosses the blaster aside and lunges at her. Without giving it a second thought, Bellamy tackles him before he can do anything, the two of them tumbling to the ground and away from the Spacekru group. Before anyone can help him, a second wave of prisoners charges through the trees, Bellamy taking a swing at McCreary. It's weak. McCreary barely registers it, his smile broadening as he notes the ripped stitches in Bellamy's side. He tackles him to the ground, looming over him. Kneeling on his gunshot wound, McCreary laughs as Bellamy screams out in pain, barely able to see anything before his eyes.

 

"I gotta hand it to you, it was a valiant effort." McCreary drawls on top of him, drawing a pistol from his side and running the cool metal on Bellamy's cheek. Bellamy struggles under him, doing his best to pull from the grip, but he can barely focus without seeing stars. "But I have a feeling, you guys are the last of it, aren't you? I thought to myself, the Red Queen wouldn't actually march her entire army into the valley without knowing what we'd done to it, right? Except that's exactly what she did, didn't she?"

 

Bellamy lets out a strangled noise that barely sounds human, his hands straining to find his weapon which is feet away.

 

"You know what we're going to do?" McCreary says, his voice dripping with poison. "We need to repopulate the earth, don’t we? We're going to take your women. We're going to take them and kill the rest of you. We have to restart the population, right? Don't worry. We'll make sure we'll start a good one."

 

Bellamy can barely see through the pain, rage, and fear. The barrel of the gun is at his forehead and he hears the faint click of the safety being taken off. He screams, he bellows, he does everything he can, but it's not enough.

 

There’s nothing he can do.

 

Then there's an intake of air.

 

The gun drops from his forehead.

 

Bellamy looks up and sees a sword plunged through McCreary's chest. McCreary appears almost as surprised as he is, the blood dripping off the blade and onto Bellamy's shirt.

 

There's strangled scream behind him and the blade twists until McCreary's thrown off him, Bellamy left blinking dazedly on the ground. He isn't sure who he expects to be on the other side - Echo or Indra, perhaps even Madi - but when the person steps into the moonlight, looming above him, he gasps.

 

"O," he breathes as Octavia towers over him, her face covered in blood and dirt.

 

Octavia's face crumbles and she collapses to the ground next to him, running her hands up his chest as she searches for any further injuries. "Big brother," she chokes, her hands quaking.

 

Bellamy can't help it, he takes it to get the shaking to stop, but instead she presses herself against him. He wraps an arm around her and holds her there as she quakes. "They all died," she whispers into his shoulder, her grip painful. "They all... died."

 

She says it like she still doesn't believe it. He doesn't know what to do because he's having a hard time rationalizing it within himself. He hears his sister in her voice, he hears the fear they grew up with on the Ark. He hears the way her voice catches the way it does when she's about to cry. But he feels her resolution, solid like steel. The cruelty that caused her to sentence an entire civilization to death over her pride.

 

So he holds her, not sure of what else to do. Holding someone he doesn't recognize.

 

After a moment, the noise of the ongoing battle explodes in his ear. Octavia flinches as if someone hit her, leaping to her feet with her sword drawn. With a manic scream, she sprints toward the prisoners, lopping the head off the nearest one. Bellamy watches as Madi leaps out of the way, her eyes wide with fear over the person she once looked up. Octavia throws herself into the fight, blood spattering against her face and arms, prisoners falling to the ground one by one.

 

It's almost like a dance, watching them fall. But as Bellamy manages to get to his feet, it's not a dance he finds beautiful. It's painful to watch them die. By the time Octavia is on her last verse, the once green valley is doused in red and destruction.

 

He makes his way over to where Madi is standing, her gun at her side. He can see the horror in her face as she takes in her surroundings - her valley - and wonders if she even recognizes it. That's the issue, isn't it? None of them are recognizable anymore.

 

The forest grows quiet again.

 

Suddenly, Bellamy is grateful for the moonlight. It casts shadows and hides the tear tracks on everyone's faces. "Everyone alright?" He asks, his voice harsh.

 

Murmured agreements resound in the valley. He scans everyone standing and is surprised to find they are all still here. They're all alive.

  
Well, not all of them.

 

Raven stalks to where Octavia is, the rifle falling from her hand. Her eyes are watering and the solid resolve that was present in the control room has melted away. "Clarke?" She asks, her voice wavering. "Shaw?"

 

Octavia doesn't answer right away. Bellamy holds his breath, but feels like he knows what the answer is because they're not with her. Her lower lip trembles and she can't look any of them in the eye. "I don't know." She admits. She finally brings her head up, her eyes swimming with tears. For the first time in six years, she looks young. She looks like the girl under the floor. 

 

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Raven demands, taking a forceful stride toward her, causing Octavia to flinch. Bellamy can't remember the last time Octavia flinched for anyone.

 

"I-I—" Octavia starts, her words getting lost. "I don't know."

 

Raven doesn't respond for a second. Bellamy can almost feel her rage like a physical presence. Except he can't move. He needs her to say it."

 

"You _bitch_!" Raven shrieks, swinging her arm back and striking Octavia across the face so hard she stumbles backward. "You absolute bitch!" Raven attacks again until Octavia falters and falls to the ground, but she doesn't try to retaliate. In fact, she takes it again and again as if welcoming it. Welcoming the pain.

 

"Raven, stop!" Murphy pushes past Bellamy, grabbing Raven and wrapping his arms around her. She struggles in his grasp, her feet wildly kicking like she's a caged animal. "Raven!"

 

"Let me go, Murphy!" She cries, fighting as hard as she can against his body. He lets out a cry when her leg collides with his shin. "Let me go!"

 

"Raven stop!" Murphy repeats, his own words thick with emotion. "You're letting all the prisoners know our location, they'll be here any minute if you don't shut up!"

 

"How can you say that?" Raven scream, still fighting his hold. "Octavia sent them to die! She sent Clarke to die!"

 

"Raven, enough." Bellamy states, his words as even as he can make them. "Murphy's right. We're going to be under fire if you don't be quiet."

 

The shock of his words is enough to calm Raven, her gaze pinning him with a look of hurt and betrayal. "You can't... you can't be serious." She says, her words low. "You're taking her side? After... after everything?"

 

Bellamy tells himself he can't fall apart. He can't crack and break to the million pieces that he wants to. "No." He says, clenching his jaw. "But Octavia knows what she did. And I speak from experience that the knowledge of that is worse than anything you can think to throw at her."

 

Octavia's head whips up from where she's crumbled on the ground. Her eyes are wild and hurt, but after whipping around like she's about to bolt, she hangs her head. Sobs wreck her body as she clutches her sword, her entire body shaking. Her cries echo in the area and Bellamy has to look away.

 

"But Murphy's right. They're going to be coming for us. We need to leave. Now."

 

"What about Clarke?" Madi asks, approaching him. "W-We haven't found her. W-We--"

 

The implication hangs in the air, no one willing to grab it.

 

Bellamy clenches his fists, trying to ground himself to the world. "McCreary revealed he knows they've defeated Wonkru. They know they've won. They're coming for us."

 

Everyone gapes at him. "W-What do we," Monty coughs to try and steady his voice. "What do we do?"

 

Turning to Raven, Bellamy asks, "Raven, did Shaw tell you anything about the ship?"

 

Raven is limp in Murphy's arms, but Murphy doesn't let go. It's clear that he needs her as much as she needs him in this moment. "Some," her voice is hollow. 

 

"Can you fly it?"

 

Raven blinks and several tears fall. "Bellamy," she murmurs. "What are you saying?"

 

Bellamy doesn't want to say it, though. He doesn't want relive it. "You know what I'm saying." He finally answers. "We need to get off the planet or we're all going to die."

 

No one moves. No one answers. The déjà vu from years before is too painful. He feels the last pieces of his heart shattering, slicing up every other part of him in the meantime. It creates a hollowness in his chest that feels like he's been scraped out from the inside and nothing is left. His entire being holds the vastness of space and he's returning to the only place he's felt whole. Except this time, it can't patch him up. He was built of planets and will scattered among the stars.

 

Madi rushes to him. "N-No, we can't leave. This is my home."

 

Bellamy shakes his head. They're surrounded by blood and death and destruction. 

 

"Not anymore."

 

***

 

"Raven, I need an eta on when you think we can be airborne." Bellamy states, hoisting himself into the hospital bed. His gunshot wound has reopened and the pain is traveling down his side to his toes. In a weird way, he welcomes it. He can at least feel it.

 

Bellamy feels adrift. As if everything's happening around him, but he's not a part of it. He's behind glass and the world moves, even though he begs it for a break. He begs time to stop so he can catch his breath. Except time doesn't stop. It moves forward without a care, completely devoid of sympathy.

 

So he doesn't catch his breath.

 

Raven mutters an affirmative, shuffling off to the control room as she does so. Jackson stands next to Octavia, his hands hesitantly checking her out. Bellamy can sense his fear as he does so, avoiding Octavia's gaze. Not that she's looking at him anyway. She's not looking at anything. Her face has been scrubbed of the blood and the makeup and it makes her look almost too young, her eyes wide and filled with sights one can never unsee. Her hair is pulled back from her face and the edges seem softer. She really is a child, hidden under the floor and demanding the respect of the world, only to be met with darkness.

 

"Outside of a few cuts and bruises, I think you'll be alright." Jackson tells her, so much weight in his tone. It almost sounds accusatory. Like, how could she emerge unscathed, when hundreds met their end because of her? For someone so small, she destroyed the world, clothing herself in its blood. But the blood has seeped into the ground and been brought back to the earth, leaving her all alone.

 

"As for you," Jackson says, turning to Bellamy. "You should be fine too, as long as you don't go on any more missions."

 

Bellamy doesn't even spare him a glance. "No," he says, his voice raspy. "No more."

 

No more.

 

Jackson leaves shortly after, but he can sense that he's hesitating. 

 

The two Blakes sit side-by-side, barely separated by a few feet, but Bellamy's never felt more alone. They don't look at each other. They don't speak. They merely sit there, letting their minds do what they do best. Twist and turn. 

 

"I'm sorry," Bellamy hears Octavia say next to him, barely able to piece the simplest of words together. "Bell, I-I'm so sorry."

 

Bellamy can feel the tears roll down his cheeks, but he does nothing to stop them. He's numb. The only thing he can feel is the gunshot wound, but even that is tingling away into nothing. "For what?" he croaks, still not turning toward her.

 

"For everything."

 

He barely shakes his head. "That's not good enough." He manages.

 

She doesn't respond right away. When she does, her words are impossibly small. "I lost everyone." She says and it sounds like glass shattering. "They're all... gone."

 

Bellamy nods. "Yes."

 

"I-I didn't think we would lose. I honestly thought--"

 

"No." Bellamy almost snaps, but there isn't any heat. There isn't... anything. "You didn't think. You were willing to gamble with lives that weren't your own. You don't get to compare what you've done to what we've done. It's not the same."

 

"Bell—" 

 

"It's not the same." He closes his eyes, thinking about the last time he was in this bed. Clarke was right here, in front of him. He can feel her fingers raking down his hair, his desperation matching her own in something he never thought would come to be. Years of loss and sacrifice lived between the two of them, but they made it through. They survived.

 

He... survived.

 

"Bellamy." Raven steps back into the medical bay, not sparing Octavia a glance. "We need to fuel the ship. We have enough hydrozene for lift off, but their system was routed a different way by Shaw. I don't think I can figure that out before Eligius gets here, but if we fuel manually, I can figure it out in space."

 

Bellamy nods. "Do it."

 

Raven returns his nod. "We can be airborne in three hours then." She turns to leave, but pauses at the door. With a sharp glare to Octavia, Raven snaps, "I hope you're happy with what you've done. Twelve hundred people. Only eleven are making it to space. Even the children didn't come back."

 

Bellamy winces at her cruel words, but can't argue them. Octavia clutches the sheets underneath her fists, her sobs coming back. They echo in the medical bay, clawing at the walls and shaking the windows. But he doesn't say anything.

 

There's nothing to say.

 

Bellamy thought once that they deserved this land. That it was theirs. 

 

He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s building!
> 
> And I’ve always viewed Raven as someone who is fiercely loyal to her people, but vicious to those who threaten them. I mean, she straight up electrocuted Lincoln instantly when he wouldn’t give the antidote for Finn. Everyone believed she was trying to poison Lexa because of her attitude. She’s insanely loyal and I fully believe she would CUT Octavia in this situation.
> 
> Also, I don’t want you guys to think I’ve forgot a very major plot point everyone keeps bringing up. It’s coming NEXT CHAPTER. I promise. :P
> 
> Please let me know what you think if you have a moment and I really appreciate you taking the time to read! <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke, Shaw, and Diyoza struggle to make it back to camp and Octavia comes up with a plan that creates tension within the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you are all doing well! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. I’m warning you – it’s going to be a bit intense and there may be a few more cliffhangers. 
> 
> This is the chapter that all the foreshadowing elements have been planted come together. Hopefully you’ll enjoy the payouts!
> 
> Much love!

CHAPTER 13

_Clarke_

 

The world returns with a bang and sharp pain in her forehead.

 

Clarke blinks dazedly, fire burning around her as she tries to take in her surroundings. It feels like her head is underwater and everything is being expressed through the pressure of the sea. Surveying the area, she startles when she meets the eyes of a lifeless Wonkru member next her sure. She lets out a cry, but when she tries to shuffle away, the world tilts on its axis and she collapses back to the ground. Touching her face, her hand comes back with black blood. "Oh," she whimpers.

 

Clarke takes a few deep breaths and manages to get onto her elbows and take everything in. The valley is burning the aftermath of the land mines leaving nothing but ash and body parts. Her eyes burn when she sees the blood splattered against the trees and the fires blazing on the ground. Her home. Except it didn't feel like her home anymore. In fact, she didn't recognize any of it. It almost crushes her, looking at the destruction. A small sob escapes her lips and she bows her head to the ground.

 

Someone moves next to her and she tenses, trying to focus on the movement. Except the sound isn't working right and everything on her right sight is heavy and dark. But after a few seconds of desperately trying to figure out what's going on, Diyoza comes into focus, waving her hands at Clarke. Hoisting herself up to her feel, Clarke stumbles, the world spinning a few more times for good measure. She makes it over to where Diyoza is, Diyoza saying things that Clarke can't register. Her mouth is moving, but she can't hear a single thing.

 

Then it hits her.

 

She can't _hear_.

 

Clarke blinks a few times, rubbing her ears and scratching at them, as if willing them to work. When she places her hand along her right ear, she's met with blood again. The noise Diyoza is making is like she's in a tunnel, her face so close, but words so far. Instead, Clarke follows to where Diyoza's hands are gesturing, a pale figure lying on the ground underneath her palm. Shaw's eyes flutter, sweat dousing his skin. Blood runs underneath Diyoza's hand. 

 

"...what... can... save!"

 

Patches of words come to Clarke and she shifts so that her left ear is facing Diyoza. "Clarke, answer me!"

 

"What?" Clarke asks, blinking. The world is still spinning, like they're standing on a see saw and it’s out of balance.

 

"We need to get out of here now, or he's going to die!" Diyoza shouts. 

 

Clarke nods and the valley seems like it's flipping above her. She leans forward without realizing it, collapsing onto Diyoza's shoulder as she does so. "Are you okay?" Diyoza asks. "You have a pretty bad head wound."

 

"So good." Clarke mutters, but the words come out slurred and clunky. 

 

"Okay, Clarke, I need you to focus."

 

Clarke knows that. She knows she needs to focus. But the valley is burning, her head is exploding, and there are dead bodies surrounding her. There aren't many times when Clarke feels like giving up, but she entertains the thought for the moment.

 

Because she is the Commander of Death.

 

Sure, it started as a Grounder superstition. Except the proof follows her around, hundreds of people dying everywhere she lays her feet. And Clarke's tired. She's tired of the loss of life, she's tired of waking up surrounded by the deceased. 

 

She's tired of being alone.

 

"Clarke!" Diyoza snaps, grabbing her shoulder. "Focus!"

 

"Right." Clarke says, dragging herself out of the pit that is the destruction around her. "We need to get him back to the Eligius ship. I think between the two of us, we can carry him."

 

"I'm not... no damsel." Shaw mutters, his words slurred with blood loss.

 

Diyoza snorts. "Then by all means, try and stand up."

 

He barely lifts his head. "Did I do it?"

 

"Yeah, you're standing like a champ." Diyoza drawls, rolling her eyes.

 

Clarke takes a while to get to her own feet, catching herself before she falls. "I may throw up," she chokes.

 

"As long as it's on Shaw and not me, we're fine." Diyoza comments.

 

"What, I... object." Shaw murmurs.

 

"Okay Clarke, you ready?" 

 

Clarke nods her head and then realizes this is a very bad idea. Reaching down to grab his arm, Clarke watches as Diyoza does the same on her side. "Ready?" Diyoza asks. "One, two, three."

 

On 'three,' Clarke yanks Shaw as hard as she can, eliciting screams from both Shaw and herself. She nearly collapses right then and there, but there's something about two breathing bodies next to her that ties her to the world. Diyoza limps forward to stead him, causing Clarke to frown. "You okay?"

 

"The price of war, Clarke." Diyoza states. "Just as everything is."

 

Clarke and Diyoza drag Shaw along and it's slow going, but they're making their way through it. They pass the empty eyes of Wonkru, feet and arms strewn about. Clarke tries her best to step over the dead, but her vision is blurry and she can feel their limbs touching her, as if grabbing to say, 'Look at what you've done.' She can feel the panic rising in her chest and she tells herself to remain as calm as she can until they reach the ship. Once they're on the ship, they'll be safe.

 

None of the eyes around them blink.

 

"How long have you been at war, Clarke?" Diyoza asks, her breathing labored.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I hope you don't mind my saying, you have a relatively... demure demeanor. But I've seen what you're capable of. You don't get that ruthless without something pushing you in the direction."

 

Clarke shifts Shaw's arm so they don't fall, thinking of all the lives lost due to wars she doesn't understand, looking back at them. "Since I came to earth." She says honestly.

 

Diyoza huffs a breath. "It's funny how power and pride causes man to destroy each other. It's been a hundred years and nothing has changed." She sighs. "We never learn."

 

"We can do better." Clarke says. "We have to."

 

"Just because Shaw's unable to walk, doesn't mean you need to take over as the optimistic one." Diyoza snorts, the noise turning into a groan as she stumbles.

 

"I don't think I could handle it, if I thought that were true." Clarke says. "Maybe one day we'll be done with it. Maybe one day... we can live in peace."

 

Diyoza smiles to herself. "I've been telling myself that for years."

 

Clarke doesn't have a response to that.

 

Instead they stumble in silence, the only occasional word directed toward Shaw, imploring him to remain coherent. After a while, even he can't resist the temptation of unconsciousness, sliding underneath and becoming a dead weight to the two. Clarke's breathing is labored, she's covered in sweat, and the world is doubling again. "We got this," she says to herself, but sees Diyoza's head perk up. "We just have a little bit more."

 

Clarke knows there's not just a little bit more. In fact, there's a lot more, but she continues to tell Diyoza and an unconscious Shaw there's only a little bit more. She knows Diyoza is aware she's lying, but doesn't do anything to stop her. She continues to lie until suddenly it's the truth and they can see the Eligius ship in front of them. There's two guards posted out front, but they stumble forward anyway.

 

"Don't shoot!" Clarke shouts, dragging Shaw forward. "P-Please, don't shoot!"

 

The figures in the distance arm themselves and aim their guns at them. Clarke continues to yell, but her arms are growing tired and her voice is getting smaller. She thinks she would enjoy lying down right now and is quite frankly indifferent at this point about getting shot. She knows fatigue is a crazy drug, but she can't bring herself to care anyways. "Don't... don't..."

 

Her legs give out and she collapses just a few mere yards away from the entrance of the ship, bringing Shaw and Diyoza down with her. "I-I'm sorry." Clarke chokes. "I-I—"

 

"Clarke?"

 

The word is so incredulous, it confuses her. It's most likely her spinning head, but she tries to find the source of the noise, flinching when the two guards sprint toward them. Clarke moves to go for her weapon, but doesn't have time to reach it when someone collides with her, nearly knocking her to the ground. "Oh my god," the person breathes into her shoulder. "Fucking hell, I can't believe you made it back."

 

The person holds her in front of him and she realizes it's Murphy, whose swung his gun behind his shoulder. He opens his mouth again close to her right ear, his words coming out muffled and soft.

 

"Speak in her left ear." Diyoza says next to her, nodding to where the black blood drips down her neck. "She can't hear in that one. She was close to the second bombing in the area and I think it blew her eardrum."

 

Murphy's brows furrow, but he shifts so he's closer to her left side. "Are you okay? You look... terrible."

 

"That's not very nice." Clarke states, her words jumbling a bit.

 

Murphy rolls his eyes. “You literally have a gash that is running from your forehead to your cheek.”

 

That’s news to Clarke. "Why didn't you say anything?" She asks Diyoza.

 

"I wanted to prevent you from panicking if you knew how much of a horror show you look right now." She states matter-of-factly.

 

"That's..." Clarke struggles to find the word. "Smart."

 

Diyoza shrugs. "I know."

 

Murphy nods at the person next to him. "Harper, go get Jackson and Miller so they can help Shaw inside." Murphy holds Clarke still, his hands firmly keeping her upright. Then, after a moment, he wraps her in another hug except this time infinitely more gentle. "Thank you for making it back."

 

Clarke places a hand on his shoulder, resting her cheek. "Team Cockroach, right?"

 

"Team Cockroach."

 

She pulls away. "Did anyone else make it back?" She asks.

 

Murphy's jaw clenches. "Octavia."

 

Clarke blinks in surprise. "Anyone else?"

 

He shakes his head.

 

Clarke shouldn't be unsurprised, but she is. When an entire army is used as a personal shield, it makes sense only the army will fall.

 

Miller and Jackson sprint outside with Harper, grabbing Shaw under the arms and helping him into the ship. Once Shaw's life is taken away from her, Clarke finally feels like she can really take a breath. "She's not allowed in Team Cockroach." Clarke demands for lack of anything better to say as she collapses onto Murphy’s chest.

 

"Fuck no, she’s not!"

 

Harper lends a hand to Diyoza and Murphy pulls Clarke to her feet, the four of them shuffling inside the ship. Clarke's head is pounding but things don't quite tilt as much as they did before, now that she has Murphy instead of dragging Shaw. "We got you, Clarke." Murphy says next to her. "Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am you made it back."

 

"Me too," Clarke says, stumbling into the medical bay. She takes in Jackson hustling around, barking orders at Miller to grab him supplies. Then her eyes lock on Octavia, who's craning her neck to see Shaw.

 

She looks different, but familiar. Clarke knows that look. That's the look of someone who destroyed entire worlds. Clarke remembers looking like that after Mt. Weather. Something inside her chest twinges, but she doesn’t go to her. She can’t.

 

"Where's Bellamy - oh my god, Clarke."

 

Before she can register who spoke her name, someone crashes into her and pulls her into an embrace. "Monty?" Clarke asks dazedly, her friend beaming when they break apart. He steadies her as she stumbles.

 

"I can't believe it," he says. "I can't believe you made it back. Madi and Bellamy are going to lose their minds. Speaking of which, where's Bellamy? I thought he was supposed to be in here resting."

 

Jackson makes a noise as he twists an instrument into Shaw's shoulder, he brows furrowed. "Yeah, try telling him that. He went with Raven to help her with the rocket preparation and said, and I quote, 'I'll have the rest of my life to rest, Jackson.' Then I think he proceeded to flip me off."

 

Murphy snorts. "Well, he's not wrong."

 

"I think he mainly wanted to get away from me." Octavia mutters.

 

"Join the fucking club." Murphy snaps at her.

 

"Well, where are they?" Monty asks hurriedly.

 

Clarke frowns. "Monty, what is it?" She knows the expression plastered on Monty's face. She’s seen it many times before and the endings were never good. Anxiety starts to breed inside her chest and it festers.

 

Monty sighs. "The Eligius crew are on their way. They're evacuating the village in the valley right now. They're coming for us."

 

Murphy rolls his eyes. "We already knew this was coming."

 

"We still have two hours before the ship's fueled. They'll be here in one and a half. We won't make it off the ground in time."

 

Clarke tries to blame it on her head, but the words aren't connecting. "B-But what if we board up the ship?" Murphy asks, panic clearly etched over his face. "We'll seal the front and they won't be able to open it."

 

"It's their ship. They have manual overrides. Once they get on here, they’ll activate them and slaughter us all."

 

“Real cheerful, Monty.” Murphy drawls.

 

“I’m just being honest.”

 

"What about Shaw?" Harper asks, cutting off Murphy’s next remark. "Raven said he programmed this ship to fly without hydrozene. He's here now, right?"

 

"Yeah, I don't think he's going to be giving any instructions anytime soon." Jackson shouts from over where he's covered in Shaw's blood. "His main goal is staying alive at this point."

 

"None of us will be alive if we don't make it off the ground!" Murphy shouts. “He can take it and then go back to trying to live!”

 

"He'd have to be conscious to give instructions, Murphy!"

 

"They used all the missiles in the Polis bombing," Clarke says to herself. She goes over everything in her head again and again, but nothing comes up. 

 

She's never had this before. She always had a plan. A plan, then a backup plan, and then a final plan in case everything went to shit. Now? Nothing's coming.

 

She’s grasping and nothing’s sticking.

 

"Shaw needs blood!" Jackson calls behind them.

 

"Here, take mine." Diyoza says from the bed next to him. "We've been living in the same environment long enough to where we'd be good matches."

 

Jackson nods, rushing over to her as if they weren't about to be slaughtered.

 

"I need to go tell Bellamy." Monty states. "Maybe he can think of something. Or maybe he and Raven can pick up the pace. Maybe..."

 

Clarke needs to sit down before she falls over, except she feels guilty even thinking about it. She makes her way to the only free bed available - next to Octavia. Clarke wishes she didn't have to, but the world is spinning again and there's dried blood sticking to her face and everything's falling apart. Murphy stalks over and hands Clarke a wet towel. "I'll go find Abby so she can examine you. I think she and Kane were trying to find extra supplies in case anyone else came back. I don't know why they bothered." He snarls at Octavia.

 

But Octavia doesn't flinch. In fact, the melancholy that was present only moments before is replaced with thoughtfulness. She peeks at Clarke as she pats the skin on her face, tenderly avoiding the gash down her forehead. 

 

The two catch each other's eye and something in the pit of Clarke's stomach makes her realize something very bad is about to happen.

 

"Clarke," Octavia states, her words small. "May I speak with you privately for a second?"

 

There's so much commotion going on, Clarke isn't sure anyone would be able to hear if she spoke at a normal register. She just seems so young and innocent, reminding Clarke of the girl who was the first to step onto the ground and run with butterflies. Nodding, Clarke hops off the hospital bed and follows Octavia out of the medical bay, Octavia leading her through the ship on paths she'd never crossed before.

 

Octavia doesn't say anything for a moment, making herself smaller and smaller as she wrings her hands. Clarke isn't sure what to do, watching Octavia shrink before her. She can't settle the two within herself. Only hours before, Blodreina lead all of them to their death. Flashes of the fight come back to Clarke, the memories that her brain hid from her appearing.

 

It happened so quickly. After the first mine went off, Clarke could barely register what was going on. People screamed, their was blood painted on the walls of trees, and smoke burned her eyes until the sting made her flinch. Then the second exploded next to her and all she remembers is having her hands on someone, applying pressure to their wound, and then waking up face first on the ground. Waking up when the world was quiet after being obliterated by chaos.

 

Octavia shuts the door behind them and Clarke immediately tenses. Even though she has no makeup and no weapon, Clarke isn't foolish enough to think that Octavia isn't dangerous. She puts a few paces of space between them, frowning when Octavia straightens. Her gaze is hard, but pained, and Clarke knows that whatever she's about to discuss, she will not like. "What do you want, Octavia?"

 

Octavia's eyes water. "I asked Monty to put a backdoor in the sensors."

 

Whatever Clarke was expecting Octavia to say, it definitely wasn't that. In fact, she doesn't even know what that means. "I'm sorry?"

 

"The radiation sensors - I asked Monty, when he was building them, to add a failsafe in case they were needed to be weaponized for more than just making the crew sicker."

 

Clarke takes a moment to let what she's saying sink in. "You had him turn them into bombs."

 

Octavia nods. "Yes."

 

"Okay, so we set off the bombs and they stall the crew from reaching the ship in time. Why didn't you say something?"

 

"We can't access them remotely." Octavia states. "Someone would have to go to where they were planted and set them to explode."

 

Clarke blinks, something in her stomach churning. She can feel the weight of emotion about to hit her in the chest and she mutters, "There isn't enough time to run to the valley, set the bombs, and get back in time for take-off. It'd be a one-way trip."

 

"Yes."

 

“Whoever did this, would be left on the planet with the remaining members of the Eligius crew.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Octavia doesn’t press further, but she really doesn’t need to. Clarke knows. She _knows._

 

Closing her eyes, Clarke feels the tears roll down her cheeks. "Just ask, Octavia."

 

"Clarke—"

 

"What you're about to ask, just ask."

 

Octavia clears her throat. "Clarke, you're the one who set the sensors. You're the one who knows the valley. No one else would be able to find them in time to stop the Eligius crew."

 

_“Just ask!”_

 

Clarke is startled by her own volume, but she can feel the panic rising in her chest. It isn't like last time. Last time she knew what she had to do. She was in control of her actions. 

 

This time, she's being asked to die.

 

"Clarke, I'm calling in my favor." Octavia states, her face stony. "I'd like you to go into the valley and use the sensors as bombs to slow down the Eligius crew from reaching the ship in time. So we can all live."

 

Clarke doesn't respond for a moment. She thinks that it would be easy, accepting death for her friends again. Like every other time she concluded this would happen, she would walk out, stoic and prepared to die.

 

Except she thought it was over. 

 

She poured herself into everything again and again, waiting for the time when it would be enough. Waiting for the time when the world would be done with her and let her be in peace. Before the world ended the second time, she always knew there was a possibility for sacrifice. Hell, she took people up on it more than once. But now? Now she thought it was over. She thought that she'd given everyone what they'd asked for. She thought the earth was done with her.

 

It wasn't.

 

Now she has nothing left to give. She’s empty.

 

It demanded her life, the one thing it hadn't been able to pry away from her hands.

 

Unable to stop it, Clarke clasps a hand over her mouth when a sob escapes. She tries to stifle it, but it ekes out, a few following it. She loses her ability to care, though. Octavia’s standing there like a statue, asking for her life again and she crumbles. "I'm going to be left behind again." Clarke whispers to herself, but know Octavia can hear it.

 

Octavia has the good sense not to say anything.

 

Because that's it, isn't it? She waited for such a long time to have Spacekru return, but there was always hope they would. Always hope that they would come back to her. It got her through the dark, the endless tunnel she had to wade through to finally reach the light. When they came back, she realized what it was like to miss a person who was standing next to her.

 

Now? She finally felt like she belonged somewhere. Perhaps not Spacekru, perhaps not the original 100, but she found a person. A person that she belonged to, no matter the obstacle in their way. And that was enough for her. It was enough to have a piece of him within two arms.

 

Without him? Earth would never really be home.

 

"I can't lose Bellamy," Octavia says quietly.

 

"Where was that in the cave in the first place?" Clarke almost screams it at her. 

 

"I know I've done everything wrong. But I just lost my entire people, Clarke. Bellamy is all I have left. And if that means sending you out to keep him alive..." Octavia sucks in a breath. "I'm willing to do that."

 

Blinking away a few stray tears, Clarke says, "I would've done it to save everyone. I-I...I would've done it to save everyone."

 

Octavia doesn't respond for a moment. She draws her gaze to the ground, her chest heaving. "I know." Her voice is small.

 

"Then why didn't you let me choose?" Clarke asks, tears rolling down her face. “Why are you calling in your favor now?”

 

"Because," Octavia states, straightening. "My brother will hate you when you leave again. Don't even try to deny it. He will _hate_ you."

 

Clarke knows she can't even pretend to deny because it's true. There is only one situation that would cause Bellamy to hate her, and that would be her leaving. Again. Surrounded by people he loves, but one part missing. For her to break her promise yet again.

 

"Yes," Clarke responds, the word raspy.

 

Octavia gives her a humorless smile. "Well, he already hates me." She states, looking up to the ceiling as if that would keep her own tears from falling. "So, I'm taking away your choice. I am making you go. You owe me a favor. And Clarke? I'd trade you for Bellamy any day. Even if he hates me for it."

 

"That's bullshit, Octavia, and you know it." Clarke snaps.

 

"Open your eyes, Clarke. This is _all_ bullshit. Everything life has given us has been bullshit." Octavia states. 

 

Clarke can’t argue because it’s true.

 

“I’m the girl under the floor.” Octavia says, her voice wavering. “And you were the girl in solitary. We’re not that different, you and I.”

 

The implications hang in the air.

 

Taking a calming breath, Clarke murmurs, "I love him, you know."

 

"I know."

 

There it is.

 

Statement of fact. A permanent knowledge that she fought for so long, and got so close to having. Except this time, he didn't have to die.

 

Clarke supposes that's a win.

 

She couldn't bear to have her love destroy someone else.

 

"Who knows?" Clarke says, trying to smile. She doing everything she can to grasp onto something – anything – that will keep her afloat. "Maybe you guys could come back one day."

 

Octavia nods. "I certainly hope so."

 

Neither of them say what they're thinking. That once the miners discover one person was left behind, there's no going back. That person will be lost forever.

 

Clarke will be lost forever.

 

With a slight nod of her head, Clarke chokes, "I better get going then. If I'm going to give you all enough time."

 

Octavia reaches behind her, holding out a small pistol. "Here. I know you didn't come back with your rifle."

 

Clarke stares at it for a moment. She can feel the fear snaking up her spine, almost paralyzing her. 

 

She gives herself this. This one, small moment without a weapon in her hands. She thinks of what life would've been like if she didn't have to go, like if she didn't have to stay six years ago. She often wondered in her time on earth if she and Bellamy would've had a chance in space. A real chance. Without war or death or making decisions that no teenager ever should have to. If, after all the fighting and bloodshed, they'd figure out how to be soft. Warm. An unstoppable force and immovable object that doesn't try to take one another down, but embraces each other.

 

A real chance to love.

 

So she hesitates. She hesitates taking the gun because she knows that once she does, she'll be saying goodbye to that future forever.

 

Clarke snatches the gun from Octavia's hands. Octavia nods. "May we meet again."

 

Clarke's lip trembles. "May we meet again.”

 

They're snapped out of their conversation when the door swings open, Raven barreling in as she carries a few parts. "Clarke," she breathes, all the equipment falls from her hands and she rushes over to wrap her in a hug. "Monty said you made it back, oh my god." She surveys Clarke. "What are you guys doing here, Diyoza said you got hit in the head pretty hard. Shouldn't Abby be taking a look at you?" Her eyes flit to Octavia and the gun Clarke's hands. "Wait, what's going on?"

 

Clarke opens her mouth, but no words come out. She wants to express it, but she's looking at one of her closest friends and she doesn't want to go. 

 

Clarke opens her mouth, but no words come out.

 

"Clarke, what's going on here?"

 

Still, she can't say it. She tries again and again, nothing more than choked breaths.

 

"I've come up with a way to stall the Eligius crew." Octavia says, her cool demeanor taking back over. 

 

Raven's eyes narrow. "Why didn't you say something earlier? Because we cannot fuel the ship quicker, otherwise we risk blowing up the entire vessel. Come on, Clarke. We can go tell Bellamy together - Monty hasn't been able to tell him you guys made it back. I can’t wait to see his face when he finds out you made it."

 

"So he doesn't know?" Clarke asks, sucking in a breath.

 

Raven frowns. "Um, no, but we can—"

 

"Good." Clarke says to herself. "That's good."

 

"What the hell is going on, someone say something!" Raven shouts. "I don't have time for whatever this is!"

 

"The sensors can be manually set to be explosives. Clarke is going to retrieve the sensors and set them to blow up the first wave of the Eligius crew." Octavia sounds more like Blodreina than she has, but even Clarke can tell there's a glimmer of despair in her eyes. "That should give us enough time to fuel up and leave."

 

"Okay, but why does Clarke have to go?" Raven asks. "She literally was just out there - on your orders - and is wounded."

 

"Clarke's the one who set them - and she knows the valley the best. Anyone else would get lost. They’d never make it in time."

 

In a strange way, Clarke's glad Octavia's talking. She wouldn't be able to get a word out without losing it a little bit if she had to."

 

"Okay, fine. That makes some sense, I guess. We can send someone with her. What aren't you telling me?" Raven asks sharply, not tearing her gaze from Clarke. She needs to stop, otherwise Clarke may lose it. "What is - no." 

 

Clarke can tell the moment it hits her. Raven's eyes grow red and her focus snaps to Octavia. _“No.”_ She seethes, reaching in her pockets, but any weapon long gone. "Fuck no."

 

Clarke sighs, "Raven—"

 

"No!" She shouts. "Absolutely not! I can't believe that you would even consider it! You'll never get back here in time and even if we came back for you once Shaw woke up and could pilot the ship, there may not be anything to come back to! You’re blowing up the valley and even if people survive, they will kill you!"

 

Clarke puts her hands together as calmly as she can. "Raven—"

 

"Fuck no! Why doesn't she go?" Raven spits at Octavia. "She's already wiped out an entire civilization today, may as well finish the last piece off!"

 

If Raven’s words are affecting Octavia, she doesn’t show it. "I'm calling in my favor." Octavia states, her voice hard.

 

"Excuse me?" Raven says, her voice low and dangerous.

 

"I'm calling in my favor."

 

"You're not in charge anymore, you psychopath. You don't outnumber us and quite frankly, you don't scare me at all. So you're either going to have to cut my fucking head off or back the fuck down."

 

"Raven!" Clarke shouts over the tirade, Octavia's jaw twitching. "It has to be me."

 

"No, it doesn't—"

 

"Yes, it does!" Clarke snaps. "We all know that I'm the one who lived here. And I..." Her words catch. "I have to be the one. I-It has to be me." She reaches out and grips Raven's shirt. "Please, _please_ understand."

 

"No," Raven says, her word broken. "No, we can figure something else out. Maybe I can go faster. Maybe—"

 

Clarke pulls her close into a hug, squeezing her shoulders tight. "One person for many. We've done this before."

 

"Why does it have to be you again?" Raven chokes. "It's not fair."

 

"I love you, Raven." Clarke says, holding her tight. "So much."

 

"Please don't go," Raven pleads, gripping her like she can hold her there. "Please, we'll figure something else out."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Clarke pulls away and sets herself. Holstering her gun, she moves to the door.

 

"What about Bellamy?" Raven cries from behind her. 

 

Clarke stops. Everything inside her screams not to take the bait, but her resolve crumbles. "What?" She asks, turning back around.

 

"What about Bellamy?" Raven repeats. It's not cruel, but it's accusing. She's seen this side of Raven many times, the pusher. The one who will perform every last hail Mary to get what she thinks is right. "You're just going to leave? You're not going to tell him?"

 

Clarke trembles. "No."

 

"Clarke, you can't do that and you know it. You didn't see him the last time. You didn't see what losing you did to him."

 

Shaking her head vigorously, she cries, "You don't think I know that? You don't think I know what I'm doing to him? But if I don't do it, he will die! You _all_ will die! And I can't do that. I can't take the risk of you, Madi, Monty, Harper - my _Mom_ , everyone! Do you think I want to go? Do you think I want to be left behind again? But it has to be done. It has to be done!"

 

"Then go tell Bellamy!"

 

"No!"

 

"Why!"

 

_"Because then I won't go!"_

 

The words hang in the air. Clarke blinks back some tears, her chest heaving. "If I talk to Bellamy, I won't be able to go. Not again." She admits. "I-I can't... I can’t say goodbye again. I can’t do it. If I see him, I won’t go.”

 

“Then _don’t go!”_ Raven implores, her eyes widening. “Don’t go and we’ll figure something out!”

 

“I’m not going to risk your lives over a chance. If the Eligius crew gets on this ship, everyone will die. We may be better fighters, but they have better technology and they outnumber us ten to one.” Clarke says. “Do you like those odds?”

 

“We’ve beaten worse odds.”

 

“Not this time.” Clarke states. “Not this time.”

 

Raven throws her hands up in the air, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What am I going to tell Bellamy, huh? When he finds out you were here and you left us again? What am I going to say to him? What could I possibly say?”

 

Clarke knows Raven’s throwing the worst she has, but she stops and thinks about this for a moment. She didn’t get this last time. She got _‘Hurry’_ and words left unsaid. She got broken promises and lonely nights.

 

“Tell him,” she says quietly. “Tell him we should’ve been something. In a kinder world, we _would’ve_ been something. Tell him that I—” She chokes, every part of her falling apart. “Tell him that I had to go. Even if he doesn’t listen or understand. Tell him that he’s surrounded by people who love him and that if he ever doubts that to… to look to the stars and know that I love him too.” Clarke hastily wipes tears from her face, but it doesn’t matter. They’re replaced as soon as they’re gone. “Tell him I never thought I’d get a love like what we had. And if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t trade anything for it. The wars, the loss, the devastation. I got a love that crosses all of that. That made everything a little better, like a light in the dark.”

 

Raven lets out a sob, covering her face with her hands. Clarke rushes over to where she is and gives her one final hug. “Look after him for me, please.”

 

“Clarke—”

 

“And Madi. I never wanted to leave her, but if this is how she lives, I’ll do it.” Clarke gives Raven one final squeeze and pulls apart. “Octavia, be the person Madi wished you’d be. The person we all thought you’d become.”

 

Octavia startles at this, her cold exterior melting ever so slightly.

 

Clarke hesitates at the door. With a final gaze at Raven, she states, “May we meet again.”

 

Instead of a response, all she hears is an anguished scream.

 

***

 

It’s surprising how easy the task is.

 

Like before, the main problem is time isn’t on her side. Clarke sneaks around the valley, hearing the voices of the crew march through, gently setting the sensors down their path and setting the timers. This plan will work.

 

But it’s odd, knowing she’ll die.

 

Even at Praimfaya, once she started healing, she had hope. Hope that she could move forward and make it. Then, she had hope her friends would return. Talking to Bellamy was the only thing that got her through the darkest of times. Except now? There isn’t hope anymore. Once the Eligius crew discover they’ve been attacked, they’ll know there’s someone left. Even Clarke isn’t that stealthy.

 

So she doesn’t hurry away from the bombs. She doesn’t sprint to see if she can make it to the ship, only to watch them leave without her again. Instead, she makes her way toward the now vacated valley.

 

Walking through the valley is heartbreaking in the worst way. Glass is shattered, clothes littering the ground, graffiti lining the houses. It doesn’t even look the same. The once peaceful village is up in smoke in the worst way, feeling less like a home than it ever did.

 

 _Home_.

 

Clarke stands in the middle, looking at the chaos and wreckage around her. She never really had a home, did she? No wonder she felt like she didn’t belong – how can you belong somewhere that doesn’t exist.

 

Heaving a sigh, Clarke makes her way to hers and Madi’s old house. She’s greeted to the medical equipment still scattered around, broken chairs and furniture lining the ground. Flashes of Vincent’s attack spring back to her mind, even the black blood streaks have soaked into the floor. She steps over the chair McCreary used to break over his head, past the window he smashed her head it. It seems like ages ago she was here.

 

Because everything changed.

 

Loving Bellamy was almost too easy. Her loves have always been hard, forged in the heart of war. Lost in the crucible. But Bellamy was always there, filling the gaps that she didn’t know existed. He was the sun and she was the moon and they never got the timing right. They could never be in the same place at the same time, orbiting the earth when the other disappeared.

 

Oh, the stardust of their love would scatter across the sky.

 

Picking up a chair at the table, Clarke grabs a few sketchbooks and sets them on the table. She takes out photos one by one, ripping the pages until they cover the table. She sees the faces of her friends and family smiling at her. Stroking the charcoal lines, Clarke heaves a sob, wishing this wasn’t the way it ended. She picks up Madi’s portrait and holds it close, telling herself that as long as Madi is alright, this is worth it.

 

She deserved so much more than what the world gave her. So Clarke is sending Madi back to the universe to demand something better.

 

Her hands hesitate over Bellamy’s portrait. She drew him again and again, but one cannot capture the sun on paper. Placing a hand over her face, she cries – really _cries_ – like she never allowed herself when Madi was here. She wishes someone were with her here now, to hold her hand and help her accept death. Help her move to whatever remains after this world. There was a point when she thought she was done, that there was nothing more the world could throw at her.

 

Now?

 

Now she wanted more, but the story was ending.

 

That’s the thing they don’t tell you when you’ve lost count of the years you’ve fought. They tell you to keep going, to keep pushing, because one day, it’ll all be over. The fight will be done and you can rest.

 

It will end.

 

The problem is, you never get to know your ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, I know… SO ANGSTY.
> 
> Yay reveals! I always wanted Octavia to be the one to force Clarke to stay. Because Octavia is ruthless and even though she lost everything, she would always choose Bellamy. And Octavia’s like, ‘well, I lost everything already, I accept Bellamy hating me forever as punishment for what I’ve done.’ And I know – why always Clarke? I go back to – she’s the ONLY ONE outside Madi who knows anything about the area! They’d be walking around like chickens with their heads cut off if she wasn’t there.
> 
> And the sensors! I planted those chapters ago, chuckling evilly at my computer. There’s a reason the mission failed! ;)
> 
> And yes, it was VERY INTENTIONAL that Clarke and Bellamy didn’t cross paths.
> 
> Prepare yourself from intense angst in the next chapter. You know how I said there were chapters I was really excited for people to read – the first one, the one where Clarke performs surgery on Bellamy, and next chapter. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Much love! If you have a moment, I’d love to hear what you think. <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy finds out about the deal and tensions run high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, thank you for your responses to last chapter! I’ll admit, I few made me cry and I’m just so very grateful that you guys have been wiling to read this story of mine! I really appreciate it.
> 
> Can you believe that there’s only 2 chapters left?! I definitely can’t… haha! What am I going to do with the rest of the season??

CHAPTER 14

_Bellamy_

 

By the time he realizes Raven hasn't come back, it's too late.

 

Bellamy's sitting in the engine room, surrounded by various tools and pieces of equipment that he doesn't know how to use. He offered to get Raven the supplies he needed, but she merely scoffed at him, ruffled his hair a bit, and stormed out with a vivacity only she could employ at the end of the world. It occurs to him that this is the first time he's been left alone in a long time. It's a welcome respite, but also a dangerous one; his mind replays the last time he saw Clarke over and over again, picturing her face and the determination before she left.

 

Sitting on one of the pipes, Bellamy lets out a tired breath and bows his head, resting it in his hands. How has it come to this? How has their time on earth been so explosive that they have to leave again? How is it they're now racing the clock, ready to leave the planet for good?

 

The worst part is, he doesn't know how to resolve himself of everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours. He doesn't know how he can stand by Octavia after she lead her whole people to die, Clarke along with them. It was the absolute worst-case scenario, Octavia taking them all to ride only to come back alone. He thinks about everything they've been through, everything he's done to protect his sister, everything he's done to protect himself. In that, he succeeded. But he never expected another person to be a part of that. Another person who he would do anything for - who he was kill for, die for. A person who, when gone, left a space inside him no one else could fill.

 

A person his own sister took away.

 

Earth is impossibly cold to those who love.

 

While he appreciates the reprieve, Bellamy frowns when he realizes it’s been some time and Raven hasn't returned. He makes his way through the ship, trying to find her, a weird voice in the back of his head telling him that he needs to find Raven now. He peeks in doors until giving up, returning to the medical bay to ask around. "Hey guys, have you seen - oh my god."

 

Bellamy's words are cut off when he sees Jackson shuffling around Shaw, his hands covered with blood. Diyoza sits next to him, a tube running from her arm to his, her hands on her laps as she surveys Jackson, worry written all over her cut-littered face. "You made it back," he breathes, scanning the room. He searches for a flash of golden hair, but he can't find anything. Scanning bed to bed, he can’t find her. "Clarke?" He asks, anxiety crawling up his chest when she doesn't come into view.

 

"She's not here." 

 

Octavia and Raven step into the room, Raven glowering at the former with tears in her eyes. The anxiety breeds within him as he watches the silent exchanges between Octavia and Raven. Raven looks like she's genuinely considering ripping Octavia's head off - and expression Bellamy has only seen a few times, each time dangerously close and always justified. She's not even trying to hide her tears and her arms are folded across her chest, but he can see she's trembling.

 

"What? Yes she is." Diyoza pipes up from her bed, her eyes narrowing. "The three of us made it back."

 

Neither Octavia or Raven say anything. Bellamy waits for someone to offer something up, but he's frozen, knowing once he hears whatever they have to say, he's never going to be able to go back. "Raven?" Bellamy asks, his voice rusty as if he hasn't used it in a long time. He trusts Raven to give it to him straight when Octavia won’t.

 

Except Raven doesn't say anything. She can barely look at him. "You tell him." She snaps at Octavia.

 

"Tell me what?" Bellamy asks and his hands shake. He can't stop it, panic is rising and he doesn't know why.

 

"Clarke isn't here." Octavia repeats, her jaw clenching.

 

"What do you mean she's not here?" Bellamy shouts, unable to control himself. He's losing his grip on reality, a river of conflicting emotions coursing through him. Rage, sorrow, despair; but he doesn't even know why.

 

"She is here." Diyoza insists. She moves to stand up, but the tube tying her to Shaw pulls and she stops. "She and I carried Shaw back. The only way she wouldn't be here is if you've done something."

 

Raven scoffs, almost like a laugh but infinitely more cold. "Tell him, Octavia." She says darkly. "Tell him what you've done."

 

"O," Bellamy says, his word coming out as a plea. "Where's Clarke?"

 

"Where's Clarke?"

 

Everyone startles when Murphy charges into the room, Abby and Kane in tow. He's glancing around, frowning. "I told Clarke I was getting Abby to look at her head, where is she?" He asks, leading Abby in front of him. The woman searches as well, frowning. "Seriously guys, she doesn't have to help with any of the rocket science stuff, does she? Because one, totally not her forte - don't tell her I said that. And also, she was sporting a pretty nasty head injury, so I don't even think she's at the top of her game. I’m pretty sure any suggestions will make no sense at this point."

 

No one responds, but continues to look at Octavia, who is standing tensely, as if preparing for an attack.

 

He looks from Raven to Bellamy. "What's going on?"

 

"O." Bellamy states, not giving him a glance. "Where. Is. Clarke."

 

Octavia doesn't say anything for a moment. He can see when her defenses crumble and Blodreina is shed. Her eyes are wide and apologetic, watering when he demands again. "Bellamy, you have to understand—"

 

"Did he fucking stutter?" Murphy shouts, gesturing wildly at her. "Where is Clarke?”

 

The fury coming off of Murphy matches his own, except he still hesitates. He hesitates when looking at his sister, unable to unleash it at her. She’s still his baby sister, the girl under the floor, his responsibility. After all these years, he’s still his family, even if he let it grow bigger.

 

“Monty, tell Bellamy what you told us.” Octavia states.

 

Monty’s brows furrow, but he says suspiciously, “I was trying to find you, Bellamy, but I ran into Raven in the hall. When I was monitoring the security footage, I saw that the Eligius crew was on their way here. They emptied the valley. And they were going to make it here before we could get fueled up.”

 

Bellamy frowns at that knowledge, the pieces still not making any sense. “Okay,” he starts, doing his best to see the picture from the limited puzzle pieces he’s given. “What does that have to with Clarke?”

 

Then Monty stops, his eyes wide. “No,” he chokes, whirling to Octavia. “The sensors.”

 

Raven uncrosses her arms to cover her face, a sob escaping.

 

Bellamy focuses on Monty, the horror etched on his face. He knows Monty has a soft spot for Octavia, the two friends since the moment they step foot on the ground. They protected Jasper together, they fought alongside one another. And now? Now Monty is staring at Octavia as if she’s betrayed him – hurt him – and Bellamy doesn’t know what to do.

 

“Someone better explain what the fuck is going on, right now!” Bellamy shouts, unable to keep himself calm anymore.

 

“I-I—” Monty starts, but his words are breaking and he can barely look Bellamy in the eyes. “I weaponized the sensors we were placing. O-Octavia asked if it was possible to blow them up, if necessary. I did it, as a failsafe.”

 

Murphy lets out an impatient groan. “That’s fucking great, Monty. But what does this have to do with Clarke?”

 

“I didn’t have enough time to make it remotely accessible since we had to leave.” Monty chokes. “The only way to set them off is for a manual override.” Monty has to take a moment. “Octavia, please,” he pleads. “Please don’t tell me you did what I think you did.”

 

Bellamy’s hands are growing cold. He turns to Octavia, who hasn’t reacted to anything Monty has said. “O, what did you do?”

 

Octavia sets herself. He can see the walls building up as she prepares herself, swallowing a few times before saying, “I asked Clarke to go and turn the sensors into bombs to slow the Eligius crew down. It’ll give us more time to fuel and leave. I called in my favor.”

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Murphy bellows, stalking over to where she is. “Clarke is _injured_ and running around in the valley isn’t going to help. You should’ve asked someone else, you should’ve – oh, for fuck sake, what is it, Raven?”

 

Raven’s continues to cry, which Bellamy can’t barely register. He feels more numb than he ever has, like she’s outside of his body and watching everything play out. He’s never recognized his sister less. Stripped of her Wonkru garb and make-up, she holds the wide-eyed innocence she started the trip with. But now? Now she veils herself with a cloak of coldness and it’s like she’s a different person. Not the person he helped raise, not the person he protected.

 

Bellamy never knew the person Octavia needed protecting the most from was herself.

 

Raven glowers at Octavia. “Explain what it means.” She demands. “Tell them.”

 

Octavia doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t hesitate. She says a few short words and then the earth explodes for the final time.

 

“She won’t make it back in time.”

 

The reaction is explosive, except Bellamy doesn’t hear any of it. He _can’t_ hear any of it. He stands there while Murphy loses it, Kane having to hold him back as he lunges at her, locking his arms like a vice around him. Abby is screaming, but he doesn’t register it. Raven says something to him, but he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t… hear.

 

Bellamy thinks of six years ago, certain Clarke would make it back in time. He was in his suit, standing at the mouth of the rocket, his gaze glued on the entrance of A.L.I.E’s bunker. Bellamy was _sure_ she was coming, and yet, she never did.

 

Now he’s back there, six years ago, and this time? This time he’s being told that she’s not making it back and for some reason it feels worse.

 

Final.

 

Six years ago, he forgot what it felt like to breathe. He forgot what it felt like to feel whole.

 

Bellamy isn’t a fool. He knew he loved Clarke a long time ago. And when she left him – well, he left _her_ – he vowed never to be consumed by something so destructive again. He couldn’t allow himself to fill himself up with a person, only to be hollow when they left.

 

Except it happened again without him realizing it. Even when they were apart, Clarke was there. She was there and he felt the pieces mend, and he could breathe fully for the first time in six years.

 

He’s forgotten how again.

 

He’s yanked out of his reverie when he feels someone grabbing his shoulder, shaking him. “—ellamy. Bellamy!”

 

Turning his attention to the person, Bellamy’s knows there are tears in his eyes. But he can’t feel them skating down his skin. He can’t feel the gunshot wound anymore. “Raven,” he says to her, her grip not going away.

 

Raven’s sets her jaw, her eyes red and swollen. “She made her leave.”

 

It’s accusatory. Angry. Hurt.

 

The end to a sentence.

 

“O,” Bellamy finally manages and for some reason, the yelling stops. Murphy gives up in Kane’s arms and Abby crumbles to the ground, her hands around the back of her head as she weeps. “Please tell me you didn’t. P-Please…” Bellamy can’t even say it. He can’t say the words. “Tell me they’re wrong.”

 

“Bellamy,” Octavia says and it’s the softest he’s heard her voice in a long time. Except it no longer brings him any happiness to hear. It grates against his ears and he winces.

 

“Please, O.” Bellamy begs. “Tell me you didn’t send her…” Squeezing his eyes shut, he grits out, “Tell me you didn’t send her to die.”

 

She doesn’t respond right away. He keeps his eyes closed because he can’t _look_ at her, he can’t bear to see the sight she’s become. He feels someone touch his arms and he flinches because he _knows_ it’s her and he can’t. “Bellamy, please.”

 

Opening his eyes, he shakes his head. “Octavia, after everything, you didn’t.”

 

“I did it for you.”

 

He can’t help but stare at her incredulously, unable to recognize the person in front of him. “What?” he breathes, her reply not making any sense.

 

“We all would’ve died if someone didn’t go out and set the bombs.” Octavia continues. “Everyone on board. Clarke was the one—”

 

“Don’t you dare say her fucking name!” Murphy shouts from where Kane still hasn’t let go of him.

 

Octavia only pauses for a second. “She was the one who set the sensors. She knows the valley better than anyone. It had to be her. It had to.”

 

“No,” Bellamy says. “No, no – it didn’t, O. It _didn’t_ have to be her. It doesn’t _always_ have to be her.”

 

“We will all live because of what I did.” Octavia states. “ _We_ will make it to space because she is slowing them down. I’m sorry it had to be her, but it _had_ to be her.”

 

“Shut up!” Bellamy hollers, unable to control himself. He doesn’t know the last time he screamed at his sister. In fact, he can’t ever remember screaming at his sister. Even her resolve cracks and she’s gaping at his reaction. “Shut up, O! You don’t get to play God! You don’t get to pretend you did this for anyone but yourself!”

 

“I did this so you could live, Bellamy!”

 

“Bullshit!” He shouts. Running his hands through his hair, Bellamy tries to calm down, but finds he can’t. It’s engulfing him, his rage. His fear. His loss. He’s already lost so much and he can’t lose anything else. Not again. “You don’t get to choose that, Octavia! You don’t get to send Clarke to her death and pretend it’s some gift! You don’t get to!”

 

“I did what Clarke would’ve done.” Octavia snaps, shouting at everyone. “She made all the tough calls, right? She killed everyone at Mt. Weather. She let us get bombed to keep _you_ safe inside the mountain. She destroyed the City of Light, even though almost everyone died because of it. I did what she would’ve done and you know it.”

 

“No,” Bellamy says, wiping his face. “No, you didn’t. And you want to know why? Because _Clarke_ did all those things. She didn’t demand someone take her place and claim it’s for the common good. She bared it, so none of us had to. _She_ did those things. She didn’t hide behind an army and allow hundreds to die because of her pride. Sure, not ever decision was great. But _she_ was the one who did them. She didn’t hide like a coward.”

 

Octavia starts, unable to respond.

 

“That’s what you don’t get about leading, Octavia.” Bellamy says. “You don’t lead to stay in power. You lead to try and save as many people as you can and give them a better life. You save who you can save today, and then you start over the next day, and save who you can save that day.” He scoffs. “You didn’t do this for me. Because if you knew me, you know I would _never_ ask for this!”

 

Octavia glowers. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy, big brother—”

 

“Happy? _Happy?_ What were you expecting, a thank you?” Bellamy screams. “No, that’s not good enough, Octavia. _Nothing_ you’ve done since we’ve returned has been good enough.”

 

“You don’t understand what we went through in the bunker!”

 

“You don’t get to use hardship as an excuse to do whatever you want, O!” Bellamy snaps back. “You don’t get to say ‘I do horrible things because horrible things have been done to me.’ We’ve all had horrible things happen. And we’ve _all_ done horrible things! But it’s time for us to stop the cycle and be better. How many people are you willing to let die for you before you realize that maybe the monster isn’t the person you’re fighting. Maybe the monster is _you_.”

 

Octavia recoils. Tears wet her eyes and she takes a step back, but can’t escape. She yanks her sword from her sheath, as if daring anyone to get near her. “You are all safe because of me!” She shrieks.

 

“Octavia,”

 

The call is soft. Softer than anything said in the past few minutes. Indra hops off of the hospital bed where she sits, the usual steely exterior fragmented. Indra approaches Octavia like a wounded animal, her hands up and taking small steps forward.

 

Octavia falters.

 

“Please listen to me.” Indra says slowly. “We do not gain peace with swords. A true warrior does not wish for war. They do not wish for bloodshed. They dread it, do everything in their power to avoid it. Please stop sinking into darkness. We must learn to move forward, when the urge is move back.”

 

Octavia crumbles. Her sword clatters to the ground and she follows it. Her cheek is pressed into the cool ground of the ship, her legs twisted underneath her. Indra carefully kneels down next to her, placing a hand on her back.

 

Bellamy can’t watch any longer. Kane finally let’s go of Murphy, who looks like he’s still considering lunging toward Octavia, but even he can’t bear the sight in front of him. “I say we toss her out of the ship,” he grumbles. “A life for a life.”

 

“No.” Bellamy states and Murphy snarls at him.

 

“I don’t give a _fuck_ if it’s your sister, Bellamy—"

 

“We are not throwing another life away. We have an opportunity to be better—”

 

“You said that last time!” Murphy shouts. “And look where it got us!”

 

Bellamy doesn’t have a response for that. Because they’re exactly where they were when they started. They’re all here and Clarke’s… gone. “Raven, keep fueling the ship.”

 

Raven doesn’t budge. “Bellamy,” she says. “What are you going to do?”

 

He watches the door. It’s sealed shut, but nothing more than a small obstacle for those marching toward them. Bellamy sees A.L.I.E’s bunker again. “Raven,” he says quietly.

 

“Bellamy, no.” Raven states, her eyes wide. “Absolutely not. No, you can’t do it.”

 

Bellamy lifts his gaze to the ceiling as if to stop his tears, but it doesn’t help. “I’m not doing it again, Raven.”

 

“Bellamy, Bellamy, look at me.” Raven grabs his head in her hands, frantic. “You can’t go. You’ll die with her if you do.”

 

“I’m not leaving her alone.” Bellamy states, his resolve set. “I’m not leaving her to die alone again. I’m not leaving her.”

 

“Bellamy, please—”

 

“Raven, stop.” Bellamy states. He wraps his hands around hers and takes them off his face. “I’m not doing it again.”

 

“Please, you can’t go.” Raven pleads. “Please, I can’t lose you and Clarke. I-I can’t—”

 

“We have a better chance of surviving if it’s the two of us. You guys take off and once Shaw is alert, maybe he can help you figure out how to get back down.”

 

“No, stop it. I’m not even—”

 

“Raven,” He urges, squeezing her hands. “I’m not leaving her. I-I can’t.”

 

He takes a deep breath. “I thought that the only way I could make up for what I did was be better. Make the human race a better civilization because she died trying to protecting everyone, and then couldn’t protect herself. She chose herself second. To everything. To everyone. I think it’s about time someone chooses her first.”

 

“You don’t even know where she’ll be!” Raven exclaims, a last stitch effort. “You don’t know where to _go.”_

 

Bellamy thinks about this, but it hits him quickly. It’s so clear, his lips even quirk up in a smile.

 

“Home,” he states. “Clarke is going home.”

 

Raven sighs, and he can tell she knows she’s fighting a losing battle. “Bellamy,” she breathes and wraps her arms around him, holding him close. “I’ll find a way to come back for you two.” She promises. “I’ll figure it out.”

 

“I don’t doubt it.” Bellamy says with a smirk. It’s not filled with any amusement, though. He holds her. “Take care of Madi for me. For us.”

 

Raven nods into his shoulder. “Always.”

 

“I love you, Raven Reyes.” He says quietly.

 

“I love you, Bellamy Blake.”

 

Pulling apart, he sets himself. “May we meet again.”

 

Raven wipes under her eyes. “May we meet again.”

 

He turns, leaving Kane to comfort Abby on the floor, Emori to comfort Murphy in the corner. Diyoza’s attention is all focused on Shaw at this point, but even she is crumbling a bit.

 

He hesitates over where Indra is running her hands up the back of a broken Octavia, her fingers curling against the floor as if she can hold onto something. He opens his mouth to say something – anything – but finds nothing will come. Instead, he whispers so only that he can hear, “May we meet again.”

 

“Monty, you’re with me!” Raven shouts, grabbing Monty from where he and Harper are embracing. “I need you to set our course so we can take off the moment we’re fueled.”

 

It’s better that no one is watching him go.

 

Bellamy stands in front of the door of the Eligius ship. Six years ago, he pulled the door down, sentencing Clarke to die. He watched the entrance of the bunker until time melted away, as if burying her in her own grave. He pulled the door, knowing what he’s done. Knowing the execution he presented Clarke.

 

This time, he opens the door.

 

***

 

Traveling through the valley isn’t anything like hours ago. He can hear the prisoners march along the trees, he can hear their growling and bloodlust. As he makes his way through the valley, he even stumbles across one of the sensors as he passes, noticing the numbers counting down until they explode. He smiles to himself, knowing that in the face of everything, she came through. Again.

 

It’s easy enough to avoid the Eligius miners, Bellamy keeping a safe distance between himself and the bellowing. He runs his hands down the fields of flowers that surround him, gentle colors of purple and pink, smiling to himself.

 

The earth is beautiful, when it isn’t so cold. The valley is genuinely a stunning place and he never had the opportunity to look at it. _Really_ look at it. It has the softness Bellamy felt when he stepped off the drop ship. The freedom he felt when he experienced his first rain. The beauty he found when he snuck off to explore on his own.

 

When he reaches the village, he frowns at the destruction around him. Everywhere are signs of imposters, destroying the home that Madi and Clarke built. Except there are signs of the two everywhere, untouched by the destruction of Eligius. On a table is a vase with flowers, on the side of a building a mural with sweeping lines and vibrant colors. He can feel Clarke in this area, marking it her home when she had nowhere else to go.

 

Bellamy gently pushes open the door of Clarke’s house, able to hear a quiet weeping once he opens the door. Medical equipment is scattered around and it doesn’t take long to see her.

 

The sun reflects off her golden hair and _oh_ , it takes his breath away. She sits, her head in her hands, surrounded by ripped sketches. He steps into the room and the moment his foot hits the floor, her head whips up in his direction. She reaches for the gun at her side, but before she can aim it at him, she sees him.

 

She _sees_ him.

 

“Bellamy,” she breathes and in that one world, Bellamy knows he’s home.

 

Dropping the gun onto the table, Clarke stalks over to where he is. “What the hell are you doing here?” She shouts, her voice heaving like she’ll fall apart right in front of him, but doesn’t know that he’s right there to catch her when she does. “Why are you here?”

 

“I’m here for you.”

 

Four words. Simple. Just like that.

 

Home.

 

“Why would you do something so stupid!” Clarke shouts, her face wet from her tears that have no intention of stopping. Her blue eyes are wild and panicked, and he can’t wrap his brain around how much she can’t fathom it. How much she can’t fathom the fact that someone came for her. “We don’t have enough time to get back. _You_ don’t have enough time to get back!”

 

“I know.”

 

Bellamy is calm. Calmer then he’s ever remembered being. Because he _knows._

 

He never knew when they were fighting for their lives. He never knew whether he was doing the right thing. If anyone was doing the right thing.

 

 _But he knows_.

 

They weren’t saving themselves by ending anyone. They were saving themselves by saving each other.

 

“Why would you do that?” She cries, marching over to where he is. He leans into her presence, knowing that if this was it – this was the last few moments on earth – he wanted to be as close as possible. This was their reward. For all the challenges, all the heartbreaking moments. This was what they got in return. Honestly?

 

It made every dark spot light.

 

“Why would you do something so stupid, Bellamy?” She cries, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt and curling it under her fingers. “What about using your _head_ , Bellamy. You promised you would use your head—” the words stops and she leans her forehead against his chest, not letting go of him. “You prom—” She can’t finish.

 

“You’re not alone, Clarke.” He says firmly, wrapping his arm around her.

 

“What?” She chokes, gazing up at him.

 

“You are not alone.”

 

Her lower lips trembles at this and for a moment, she stops fighting. The anger dissipates and she looks at him – _really looks at him_ – and bows her head.

 

“No!” She snaps, trying to shove him away from her, but it’s a weak attempt. “No, you weren’t supposed to… you weren’t supposed to die, Bellamy! I can’t—”

 

“I can’t either, Clarke.” He states calmly.

 

“You were supposed to live, Bellamy.” Clarke says, the weight of her words almost bringing him down. “You were supposed to use your head, and…”

 

“What about me, Clarke?” Bellamy ask, tilting her chin up so she has to look at him. He instinctively leans closer to her, the space between them miniscule, but feeling vast all the same. “What about me after you die? I know you’re fine sacrificing yourself and completely disregarding your life. But what about me after you’re gone? I lived through your death once and I barely made it out. I can’t do it again. I _won’t_. You may be willing to die for us, but I am not willing to let you die.”

 

Tears roll down her cheeks and she looks so beautiful, it takes his breath away. She radiates sunlight and hope and he wonders in that moment why he never did anything before. All the space and anger seems so trivial now that he’s holding her. He places a hand on her cheek, brushing a tear away with his thumb and she leans into it. Except his time when she leans to him, he doesn’t recoil. He doesn’t look for an excuse to leave. Instead, he closes the space between them even more.

 

She shakes her head. “Then you’ve sentenced yourself to die.” She states, but there’s no heat. There’s pain laced in it and he can’t bring himself to be upset.

 

“Fine.” He answers, leaning his forehead against hers.

 

“Fine.” She snaps.

 

With her free hand, she wraps it around him and pulls him closer. He can feel her breath against his skin and marvels in the fact that he’s home too. He’s held Clarke many times before, but this is different. She’s under his skin and he’s embracing it. He can feel her trembling underneath him. “I’m scared,” she whispers, her fingers clenching around his shirt.

 

He pulls her tight. “Me too.”

 

So, they hold each other.

 

Bellamy takes her face in his hands, pulling her lips for a kiss. It isn’t the desperate one that she gave him before she left, but gentle and filled with words he can’t say because it would be too hard at the end of the world. “Together?” He asks as he breathes her in. He feels her arms wrap around him and clasp together, and he holds the back of her head, gripping her hair.

 

“Together.” She responds.

 

Then the bombs go off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: … … …
> 
> YES THAT WAS A MT. WEATHER REFERENCE.
> 
> Actually, there was a lot of throwback to seasons in this chapter… whoops???
> 
> Firstly, I do NOT recommend reading this while listening to the soundtrack score: “Arrival - On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter” I listened to it while writing this and it will make you sad.
> 
> Secondly, I kinda view this as the “Rise and Fall of Octavia.” I’ve been asked if I hate Octavia and the answer is no, per se, but I do feel like she’s never really been held accountable for her actions, which is how we got Blodreina. She blames everything on everyone else and when you believe nothing is your fault, you can justify everything. That said, I fully think she’s a villain at this point. It’s just harder to accept because we have her entire backstory.
> 
> Can you believe there’s only one chapter left? I really can’t. 
> 
> I really hope you guys like it. I don’t want to give anything away from the next chapter (which is NOT an epilogue), so I’m going to stop talking now before I ruin anything.
> 
> If you have a moment, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Much love, and thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Can you believe this is it? This is the last chapter? I definitely cannot. If someone told me that I was going to write 80k+ in a month, I would’ve laughed. Also, I’m posting this on another hiatus-week, which I think is very fitting, because I started it because of a hiatus week! Full circle!
> 
> Not to get too serious and mushy, but I do have to say this. I really want to thank everyone whose read, left kudos, comments, spoke to me on Tumblr. Just everyone. I mentioned this a few times in reply comments, but I’ve been really struggling with my writing for a lot of reasons and was genuinely considering stopping. I didn’t feel like my writing would ever be good enough to share. Then I stumbled across The 100 and got an idea that I couldn’t shake – and just had to write. Everything you’ve said and the fact that you took the time to read what I wrote just means the world.
> 
> So, this last chapter is for you all. I hope you like it. Much love. <3

CHAPTER 15

_Clarke_

The bombs are so loud, the windows rattle against the panes. Clarke can’t help but flinch and squeeze Bellamy closer whenever that happens, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he simply pulls her even closer – even if she thought it was physically impossible – his fingers twisted in her hair. Shutting her eyes, she tries to drown out the noise, surprised it’s affecting her as much as it is with only one functioning ear.

 

With every blast, Clarke thinks of the valley they’ve destroyed. It was untouched by Praimfaya, but in the end, destroyed by humans. It’s terribly sad to think of the pain that humans cause on those around them, even the earth unable to survive their wrath.

 

Even with the destruction around them, Clarke can’t help but feel that they are in their own bubble. For the first time, the two of them aren’t directly in the action. They aren’t fighting, guns blazing. They aren’t deciding who is going to die and who is going to live. They’re simply existing, the action dancing around them, and are allowed a quiet moment they never were.

 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Clarke admits, her words desperate and weak, ghosts of the encounter weeks ago where he broke her out of the Eligius prison.

 

Because it’s true. She’s holding him close, her arms wrapped around him, but there were so many moments in the valley she dreamed he was there. She would close her eyes and he’d be back for her, ready to be by her side. And it felt _so. Real._ But every time she woke up, he wasn’t there. Her mind had tricked her again, tricked her into feeling safe. She couldn’t be upset with it, even for one moment. Because she needed to feel safe.

 

He merely holds her tighter in response.

 

Once the noise stops exploding around them and the house settles. All Clarke can hear is her breathing next to Bellamy’s and the world grows quiet.

 

Neither of them move.

 

Finally, Bellamy loosens in Clarke’s grip and he states, his voice thick, “We should probably find somewhere to go.” He says. “You know the valley well,” he adds with a smirk. “Any place we could hide from Eligius?”

 

Clarke takes a breath. Now that she hasn’t moved in a while, the world wobbles again and her body reminds her that it is _done_ , despite all the adrenaline that had been coursing through her. “Aren’t you tired of fighting?” She asks, her voice small.

 

Bellamy pauses. There’s no judgment on his face, no anger. He grips her shoulders. “Our fight is _not_ over.”

 

Nodding, she can’t help but quirk a smile. “No, it never is, isn’t it?” She says with a half-smile.

 

“It will be one day.” Bellamy says with a confidence Clarke hasn’t seen on him in ages. For some reason, she believes him. She trusts what he says always, like she had years ago.

 

He extends a hand to her. Clarke peers at it. It feels like so much more. So much more than an offering of comfort. She knows once she takes this, everything will be different.

 

Clarke has spent so many years of being afraid of love. She watched person after person she loves die, at her hand no less. A part of her wondered if she would ever get to experience anything again. A part of her didn’t want to. She didn’t want to hold someone close only to have them ripped away from her.

 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke takes his hand and smiles.

 

She’s done being afraid.

 

Bellamy beams in response and it’s so breathtaking, she can’t help but return it. It lights his entire face up when he smiles, and she can see the years of war melting away. Sure, it wasn’t fair, what they were given to deal with on earth. But after everything, if this is what they were given in return? She’ll take it.

 

As Bellamy wraps his hands around the door handle, a loud pounding sound explodes against the walls and windows of the house. The two stumble to the floor, Clarke covering her head with her hands and feeling Bellamy’s arm cover those. “Were there bombs in the village?” Bellamy asks, pulling her as close as possible. His fingers run across her face where they come back wet with blood, her wound reopened.

 

Clarke winces at his touch before saying, “Not that I’m aware of.”

 

Bellamy unholsters the gun at his side, nodding his head over to the table where hers is. “Can you get that?”  


She nods, scrambling over to her gun and making sure it’s loaded. She grips it tightly, trying to ignore the fear creeping up again. One would think after so many life-or-death situations, they’d get used to it. She never did.

 

“Okay, I’m going to look out and see what we’re dealing with,” Bellamy states, already in the fighting mindset. “We can do this. We’ve done crazier things.”

 

“Yeah,” Clarke breathes.

 

Before all the crazy things they’ve done, she always wanted to tell him. Tell him the extent of what he means to her. She used the wars and fighting as an excuse, but to be honest, she was afraid. She’s done with fear.

 

Before he can open the door of the cottage, Clarke grabs his face and kisses him. _Kisses him_. It holds the weight of every decision they’ve made together. The weight of every life lost. Every time they were separated. Every time they made a decision that hurt the other.

 

But it also held the joy. The reunions after days of separation. The victories they had. The nights they survived. She doesn’t hold back, even as the windows rattle and she hears the ruckus outside.

 

He needs to _know_.

 

When she breaks it off, Clarke smiles. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a while.” She says.

 

Bellamy coughs, looking a bit dazed. He doesn’t take his gaze off her, a smile stretching on his face. “Well said.” He says, his words rusty. “Uh, when we survive this, feel free to bring up this topic again.”

 

“Will do.” Clarke responds.

 

He turns around, muttering to himself, “Just so unprofessional Clarke, really.”

 

She can’t help but smirk to herself.

 

Opening the door a crack, Bellamy peeks outside. He freezes. “Oh my god,”

 

Scrambling to her feet, Clarke moves next to him. “What is it?”

 

Bellamy opens the door all the way.

 

The Eligius ship gently lowers down in a clearing a few yards away, the power from the thrusters rattling the entire village. Bellamy looks down at Clarke, a smile on his face and hope in his eyes. “They came.”

 

Clarke can barely register what she’s seeing. The door of the ship slowly lowers, a group of people rushing down, guns at the ready. She can’t move forward. This can’t be real.

 

This has to be a dream.

 

It hurts to admit it. That none of this is real. But even her dreams in Eden didn’t have her being rescued. It’s the only answer. They wouldn’t risk everything to come back for her.

 

This is a dream.

 

“Clarke! Bellamy!” Someone shouts from the bottom of the Eligius ship platform. “What are you waiting for, a fucking written invitation? Get your asses over here!”

 

Even at the distance, Clarke can recognize Murphy’s gruff voice. Bellamy grabs her hand without any hesitation, dragging her forward. The two of them sprint over to where the ship has landed, Murphy stepping off the platform to greet them.

 

He grins. “I know that being dramatic is Bellamy’s thing, but as someone probably super famous and petty once said, ‘Anything you can do, I can do better.’” Murphy laughs.

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but claps Murphy on the shoulder. “Good to see you too, man.”

 

Clarke still can’t believe it. She is certain this is a dream. All those nights in the valley by herself, wishing someone was there.

 

Murphy turns to Clarke. “You didn’t think we’d let Team Cockroach die, do you?”

 

She still can’t respond.

 

Clarke allows herself to be corralled on the ship. The moment their feet are firmly planted on board, Murphy slams his hand against the controller on the side wall and the platform starts to raise. With a radio close to his face, he says, “Alright Raven, as a professional astronaut at this point myself, I’d like to state for the record, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

 

_“Good god, Murphy.”_

“So unprofessional, Reyes.” Murphy says with a grin.

 

_“Kindly fuck off.”_

 

“That’s the spirit.”

 

People are running toward her. Clarke can’t even fathom what’s going on right now. She’s vaguely aware that Bellamy is still holding her hand and she doesn’t let go because once she lets go, it’ll all go away. And it can’t go away. It can’t.

 

She’s vaguely aware that people are saying her name and she blinks. Bellamy arches an eyebrow at her, but turns to face the people who’ve rushed toward them. She’s grateful for this movement, especially since he doesn’t let go of her hand, but places his body in between them and her, giving her a buffer between them.

 

“H-How?” He manages and Clarke barely hears it.

 

Abby steps forward. “I woke up Shaw.” She states unapologetically. “I’m not saying goodbye to my daughter. Not again.”

 

“I thought he couldn’t be woken up.”

 

Raven steps out from the shadows. “She injected him with adrenaline so he woke up. Probably super terrifying on his end.”

 

Murphy turns to her. “Dude, shouldn’t you be, like, piloting the ship?”

 

“It’s on autopilot, dumbass.”

 

“Are you seriously calling me a dumbass when—”

 

“Oh, how I have not missed this bickering in space.” Bellamy groans, running his hand down his face.

 

“Yes you do.” Murphy drawls. “I decide to keep to myself for a little while—”

 

“Two _years_ , Murphy—”

 

“—and I am woken up daily by Bellamy ‘You are important to me’ Blake. I don’t know how any of you survived it without your own part of the ship.” Murphy finishes. He throws a concerned look at Clarke, whose still unable to do anything but gape at everyone around her. She blames the head injury, but she’s waiting to wake up. She _has_ to wake up. The longer this plays out, the more painful it’ll be when it’s gone.

 

Bellamy casts a worried glance in her direction, but keeps the topic off of it. “Is Shaw okay?”

 

Abby nods. “He should be fine. He’s resting now.”

 

“Yeah, there’s nothing like someone screaming directions at you while simultaneously cursing out everyone in the area.” Raven states with a grin. “It was kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie.”

 

“There are so many things wrong with you, Reyes.”

 

“Hey Murphy, that’s a lot of the pot calling the kettle black.”

 

“I didn’t get left behind.” Clarke breathes before she can stop herself from saying it out loud.

 

Everyone stops talking. She thinks that this is the moment. The moment she’s about to wake up. Everyone stops talking and she can barely register what anyone’s saying. Squeezing her eyes shut, Clarke lets go of Bellamy’s hand and takes a step back. She waits. She waits for it all to disappear. She waits to wake up. Waits for this to all be torn away from her and for her to wake up amongst the bombs.

 

It never happens.

 

With a soft smile, Bellamy turns around to face her. Leaning down until their faces are almost touching, he says, “Never again.”

 

He closes the gap.

 

“Fucking _finally!”_ Murphy calls from behind him.

 

“You all owe me money!” Clarke hears Raven say.

 

“Money is an empty construct, it’s literally just us!”

 

“Then you all have to do my responsibilities for a month!”

 

“Dude, your responsibilities are things like ‘fly this ship so we don’t die.’ Do you really want us all to die by putting people like Monty in charge of that?”

 

“Hey!”

 

Clarke can’t help but laugh, breaking their kiss. She leans her head into his chest and feels him shake with laughter with her. She grips the front of his shirt, still afraid to let go.

 

“Clarke!”

 

Clarke hears the voice – the only thing that could get her to let go of Bellamy in this moment. Madi barrels down the hall, her hair streaming behind her and her feet pounding against the steel. Removing herself from Bellamy, Clarke runs to meet her half-way, grabbing her and holding her tight. “Madi,” she breathes.

 

The girl hugs Clarke painfully tight, weeping on her shoulder. “You came back.”

 

Placing her hand on the small girl’s head, Clarke says, “I came back.”

 

After a few minutes, they pull apart. Madi wipes under her eyes and says, “It’s a good thing too. I was planning to get back at all of them. Starting with Murphy.”

 

Murphy flinches, appalled. “Listen up, you little pipsqueak, I _am the funny one_! You can’t prank the hilarious uncle.”

 

“Yes you can!” Madi exclaims, balling her fists. Clarke can’t help but laugh because she knows this look on Madi. She knows when Madi’s about to do something mischievous, but decides not to warn Murphy. She catches Bellamy’s eye and gives him a secret smile.

 

He ducks his head in return, turning away from Murphy as to not give it away.

 

Without warning, Madi takes something out of her pocket and throws it at him. The moment it hits him, it explodes and douses him with water, Murphy dripping from head to toe. “You little—” he gasps, hands out at his side like he’s too paralyzed to move. “I’m going to kill you.”

 

With an excited shriek, Madi takes off, her quick strides echoing in the ship. Murphy sprints after her, his curses bouncing off the walls. Raven folds her arms and cocks her head. “Aw, it’ll be nice having two children on the ship this time. They can tire each other out.”

 

Bellamy marches over and helps Clarke to her feet. It hits her how _tired_ she is and he lets her lean most of her weight on him. “Why don’t we get you checked out?” He asks softly.

 

“You should probably get checked out too.” She says. “Your gunshot wound is never going to heal if you keep doing stupid things.”

 

“Yeah, I promised Jackson no more missions and everything.” He grins. “Good thing I have someone to keep me company now.”

 

With a smirk, Clarke responds, “Let’s not push it. I’m still upset with you. You could’ve died.”

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes.

 

“Oh god, you two are going to be nauseating, aren’t you?” Raven says, approaching them. Except she grows softer and reaches out to both of them.

 

“That was very stupid, Raven.” Bellamy says. He wraps her in a hug nonetheless.

 

“Well, I have years of anecdotal proof of you doing incredibly stupid things for the people you love Bellamy, so you don’t get to talk. You too, Griffin.” Raven states. She breaks away from Bellamy and reaches out to Clarke.

 

Clarke holds her friend close, marveling at how only hours ago, they said goodbye. “I told you we’d meet again.” She says to Raven.

 

“That is _so not_ what you said—”

 

“Raven, why don’t I take them to the medical bay?” Abby says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

Raven sighs. “Fine. I should probably make sure we’re on course anyways. You two better be in the medical bay when I get back. If I find you’ve gone off to do god knows what—”

 

Bellamy quirks an eyebrow. “I can’t decide if that’s a double entendre or if it’s a dig at our self-sacrificing tendencies.”

 

Clarke shrugs. “Me neither.”

 

“Oh my god,” Raven breathes. “Now that you’re together, you’re going to be infinitely worse. Shit.”

 

She stalks away, but not before peering over her shoulder one last time and beaming at the two of them.

 

Bellamy places his arm around Clarke and she leans into it. She walks through the ship, still not entirely able to grasp what’s going on.

 

She’s here. She made it.

 

She’s not alone.

 

***

 

The days after the rescue are some of the best and worst Clarke can remember. It’d been a while since Clarke could simply rest, her injury a bit more extensive than her body led her to believe. With a sad smile, Abby informed her that she would never hear anything in her left ear again outside of ringing and pressure, the effects of the bombing unable to be reversed. Bellamy cast her a concerned look when the news was delivered, but Clarke wasn’t distraught. She wasn’t even upset. There was no reason at this point. They all had their scars from their time on earth.

 

It didn’t make them weak, it made them strong.

 

Shaw woke up for real a day after they left earth. Raven situated herself between Clarke and him, chatting casually to Clarke as she recovered, but sneaking worried glances at Shaw as she sat. When his eyes fluttered open, Raven swiveled so quickly she almost fell out of her chair. He blinked a few times before locking eyes on hers and frowning. “Did I yell at you?” He mumbles, drowsy from blood loss and pain killers.

 

“A lot.” Raven chokes out. “You swore too.”

 

He merely nodded and fell back into unconsciousness.

 

Raven smiled to herself and Clarke tried not to be too obvious with her excitement for her dear friend.

 

The first day Clarke was able to take a shower was a much more emotional experience than she imagined. It was nice to have a moment by herself, letting the warm water pour down her back. It’d been years since she had such a luxury, the steam curling around her as she scrubbed her skin hard. She scrubbed it again and again until it was raw.

 

She felt like she needed to keep scrubbing, washing away everything she’d done since coming to earth. Instead she sat on the floor of the shower, water running until it turns cold. She took pleasure in having a gentle noise surround her.

 

Without thinking too much about it, she pinches herself hard. Nothing happens except a sharp pain. She pinches her self again. And again. And again. Except each time, she doesn’t wake up.

 

Sobs come ripping from her chest and she can’t stop them. They demand to be known – to be heard. Her breaths are coming shorter and shorter, panic seeping in before she can stop it.

 

Before she knows what’s going on, the bathroom door swings open and someone is on the floor, water running down their front. “Clarke, you okay? Clarke, look at me honey. Breathe. That’s right, breathe.”

 

The person sits in front of her, fully clothed, water pouring down their front as they place a hand on her chest and encourage her to breathe. After a while, she does. Each breath is a little easier.

 

A little more natural.

 

When Clarke finally is under control, she finds herself staring at her mother. “Mom?” She asks, the word weaker than she wishes.

 

Abby runs her hands across Clarke’s face, brushing her hair out of her eyes. In the past few days, Clarke’s noticed Abby growing stronger, healthier. Her skin no longer stretches across her bones and her hands don’t tremble like they used to. She’s staring at Clarke with a clarity that she hasn’t seen in years, her hands cupping her face. “Oh, Clarke,” she says, her words gentle.

 

“I-I don’t want this to be a dream.” Clarke admits brokenly, weeping. “I don’t want to wake up.”

 

“This is real, Clarke.” Abby urges, gripping her hands. “We’re safe. _You’re_ safe.”

 

Clarke leans forward onto her mother, the water from the shower ice cold and painful, but neither of them try to change it. Abby lets her weep, sucking in each breath until they even out. She runs her hands threw Clarke’s hair and for the first time, Clarke thinks she might be right.

 

She might be safe.

 

***

 

One of the worst days was when Clarke found herself alone in Madi’s and her room, Octavia slipping in and shutting the door. Clarke isn’t proud of it, but she had been avoiding Octavia as much as possible.

 

She looked different than Clarke can remember her. She was scrubbed clean, raw and empty. The girl who hid under the floor gone. Blodreina gone.

 

Without those two, who was she?

 

Octavia leans against the door, pressed against it so she’s as far away from Clarke as possible. “Hi,” she starts, but doesn’t move forward.

 

“Hey.” Clarke answers.

 

Octavia is small. Smaller than she’s ever seen her. Her shoulders are hunched and she wraps her arms around herself and Clarke can practically feel the guilt and loss radiating off of her. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” She admits. “I’ve been too afraid to, though.”

 

Clarke doesn’t respond because she doesn’t know how to.

 

“I’m sorry,” Octavia says quickly. “I’m sorry I called in my favor. I’m sorry I traded you for food and blackmailed you into coming with me to war.”

 

Bringing her gaze to the ground, Clarke says, “We’ve all done unforgivable things. I think it’s time to move on.”

 

“I genuinely thought I was doing what was right.” Octavia says, her voice wavering. “I-I thought we deserved the valley. I thought that if I could save us, everything I did to get us there would be forgiven.”

 

Clarke nods. “I get that.” She says, because she does. She’d made decisions she knew she’d have to live with for the rest of her life. She hopes to be forgiven one day too. “I get losing who you are to survive.”

 

Octavia bows her head. “Did you ever… have you ever…”

 

She can’t finish it.

 

Clarke returns her attention to Octavia, whose squirming against the door, tears rolling down her cheeks. “How do you live with it?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “How do you live with what you’ve done? When will this go away?”

 

Clarke’s chest hurts. Hurts for everyone she’s hurt, everyone Octavia’s hurt. “It never goes away, Octavia. I carry them with me everywhere I go.” Clarke admits. “Loss, pain, regret. Time eases these things, Octavia. You need to find something that takes it away for a small while. Otherwise it’ll eat you alive.”

 

Octavia’s eyes are open and wide, like she’s desperately drinking in whatever Clarke’s saying.

 

“Don’t make it a person, Octavia.” Clarke warns. “That will never heal the way you need.”

 

Clarke doesn’t see Octavia often after that. She asks Indra from time to time, even carefully approaches the conversation with Bellamy, but sees the wounds haven’t healed yet. One night, before the two separate to bed, Clarke places a hand on his cheek and says, “Don’t forget what brought us here.” He leans into her hand as he usually does. “She’s your sister. And that love doesn’t go away. Who we are and who we need to survive are two very different people.”

 

He doesn’t respond and she doesn’t ask him to.

 

***

 

But the worst? The worst is the nightmares. Clarke had been fighting for so long that her body didn’t know what to do with the gentle times. It was on hyper alert at all times, Clarke waking in a cold sweat, prepared to fight. Prepared to die.

 

Prepared to be alone again.

 

It got to the point where she trained herself to wake up before waking up Madi, who slept a few feet away. Clarke clutches her chest, her entire body quaking. Her dreams are filled with bloody hands and being the only person left in the world. Clarke peeks at where Madi’s soundly sleeping, her hand wrapped around her pillow. She told Bellamy that she needed to stay with Madi for the time being – at least until Madi felt comfortable in the sky as she did on the ground. He agreed instantly and Clarke found herself falling in love with him even more.

 

Except in this moment, she needed a safe space. She couldn’t shake the need to be strong for Madi, even after danger had lifted. She never wanted to burden her with the nightmares and the blood on her hands.

 

But she needed someone.

 

Swiveling out of bed, Clarke’s bare feet touch the ground and she stretches her toes. As carefully as possible, she sneaks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. She walks quietly down the hallways of the Eligius ship, every footstep resounding in the hall. She tries to be quiet because everyone is fast asleep in their bunks, but she feels like everyone can hear. But it’s relatively uneventful, Clarke making her way to Bellamy’s room.

 

She opens the door, peeking her head in. Bellamy lies on his bed, sprawled across the bed. His shirt is off as per usual when he sleeps and Clarke marvels at how soft he looks. Scars litter his bare skin from all the wars they’ve fought side by side, all of _their_ blood that was spilt. She considers not waking him up and leaving him in peace. Peace has been such a rarity in their lives. But she’s still trembling and feels the urge to be selfish.

 

Closing the door behind her, Clarke moves toward Bellamy, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. “Bellamy,” she whispers.

 

He makes a noise, soft and low. Opening an eye, he blinks a few times. “Everything alright?” he asks, shooting straight up, but sleepiness not shaking away.

 

“Yeah, please don’t get up,” she murmurs. Except she hesitates. “Can I…” She winces. “Can I join you?”

 

Without so much as a pause, Bellamy opens the blanket he’s tangled up in, scooting over to make room. Clarke climbs into bed, propping her head with her hand. Bellamy faces her on his side, now alert. “Everything okay?” He asks, his words dripping with sleep.

 

“I can’t sleep.” Clarke admits, unable to look him in the eye.

 

Bellamy nods like he knows, but then says, “I get it. I can’t sleep sometimes too.”

 

She places a hand on his chest, bury her face there too. He pulls her closer like she’d hoped he would and for the first time since she woke up, she’s able to let out a shaky breath. It shudders down her spine, but he holds her there. It makes sense that sun and moon would finally meet in space.

 

“Can you…” Bellamy starts, but struggles to finish his sentence.

 

She lifts her head to face him and he’s giving her the most intense stare she’s ever experienced. It makes her feel vulnerable, raw. Except with him? She’s alright with that. She finds her usual defenses aren’t pulling up and she asks, “Can I what?”

 

“Can you tell me about that day? Six years ago?”

 

Clarke sucks in a breath. “Bellamy, I…” She sighs. “I don’t know what good that would do.”

 

“Please.”

 

Clarke lets out a sigh, unable to tell him no. “The dish wouldn’t align.” She starts, thinking of how the suit made her feel hot, even though she was surrounded by snow. She was so worried how it constricted her movements when she ran, and how she continued to look at her watch as she made her way to the tower. “I did everything Raven said, but it needed a manual override. The only way to get the dish to align was to climb.”

 

He grips her arm. “You _climbed_ the tower?” He asks breathlessly.

 

“It was the only way.” She responds. “There was no other option.”

 

“The only choice.” He whispers and his grip is getting tighter, painful. As if he’s there with her six years ago, watching her climb away from him.

 

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It was the only choice.” She brushes a piece of his long hair out of his face and smiles at him. “I saw you guys lift off while I was climbing the tower. I-I knew I was making the right decision because I knew that sometimes you have to sacrifice one for many. And I wanted to keep you guys alive. It’s what I’ve always wanted, ever since we came down from the Ark. I wanted to keep _you_ safe.”

 

Bellamy holds her there, his eyes soft and wanting.

 

“I choose you first.” She says, unable to keep her voice even.

 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, he pulls her close and kisses her, his hand running down her back. She can’t help but lean into it, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him as close as she possibly can. Her entire body feels like it’s on fire, but for some reason it doesn’t feel like enough; he’s not close enough, she’s not on fire enough.

 

They break away, both breathing heavily. “I choose you first.” Bellamy says breathlessly, giving her a soft smile that he seems to only save for her that fills her stomach with knots and her cheeks with blush.

 

The moment falters when Bellamy sobers a bit, frowning as he asks, “In the tapes, you mentioned that sometime you thought that Jasper had it right. Did you really think that?”

 

Clarke hesitates. She remembers that day. Alone, starving, dehydrated. She remembers feeling her body dying. “At the time, yeah.” She admits and she can see Bellamy’s eyes water, but she needs to be honest. She’s done pretending it didn’t happen. “But do you remember when you asked me how I got through being on earth alone?”

 

When he responds, his voice is husky. “Yes.”

 

“I lied,” she says. “It was you. You are what got me going through it.” She smiles at him. “I spoke to you every day. And it was the best part of my day. You got me through it. You gave me hope.”

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, drawing her close. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Clarke insists. She places her hand over his mouth to stop any further protests. “I’m not. You guys survived. I survived. We survived.”

 

“We survived.” He repeats, drawing in for another kiss.

 

It’s not passionate and desperate like the last one, but soft. Except it’s as if he’s savoring the moment. They no longer are ready to die. They no longer need to be frantic and rushed.

 

They have time.

 

“We don’t have to fight anymore.” He breathes, holding her close. “We’re done.”

 

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees and she lets herself believe it. It may not be true tomorrow or the next day, but it’s true right now. “We’re done.”

 

There’s a gentle knock at the door and the two glance up to where they are. A sleepy Madi walks through the door, rubbing her eyes. “I woke up and you weren’t there.” She mumbles.

 

Clarke sits up, guilt eating at her stomach. Madi still was struggling with all the change and the sudden influx of people. As outgoing and rebellious as she was, she still enjoyed the quiet moments with Clarke. “Can I come sleep with you?”

 

“Of course.” Bellamy answers without hesitation, scooting until his back hits the wall and dragging Clarke with him so there’s space next to Clarke for Madi to climb in. The simple action makes her love him more. Clarke can’t help but smile to herself as she brushes a few strands of hair out of Madi’s face.

 

“What’s wrong with your face?” Madi asks Clarke.

 

“My face?” She asks, placing her hand on it. She knows it’d been rough healing from the bombing, but the only person who commented on it was Murphy because, well, it was Murphy.

 

“You look all mushy.”

 

“Mushy?” Clarke repeats.

 

“Swoon-y.” Madi giggles.

 

“’Swoon-y?’” Clarke says, aghast. “Listen here, you little munchkin—”

 

Clarke attacks her face with kisses and Madi cries out, laughing. “Stop! Stop! I was only kidding!”

 

“Sure you were,” Clarke laughs, covering her face with a pillow.

 

“Can you guys, like, be any louder?”

 

Octavia opens the door to their room, cautious at the entrance. “I can’t sleep.” She says.

 

Bellamy doesn’t say anything, his jaw clenching. Clarke lifts an eyebrow at Madi, who glowers only for a moment, but then shrugs. “Octavia, would you like to sleep in here?” She asks.

 

“Really?” Octavia responds, her face lighting up for the first time Clarke’s seen in ages.

 

Without a second more, she moves over to the bed, surprising both Clarke and Bellamy, wedging herself between the wall and Bellamy’s back. Clarke mouths, ‘Be nice’ to Bellamy, who merely scowls and crosses his arm. “This bed is way too small for this.” He mutters.

 

“We could go back to our room.” Clarke offers.

 

Bellamy grabs her wrist before she can even pretend to get up. “ _So_ not what I meant and you know it.”

 

“Jeez, are you guys having a concert in here or what?” Raven asks from the doorway, bursting into laughter when she sees the sight before her. “I didn’t realize it was pile on Bellamy night. I thought those were on Thursdays.”

 

Without warning, Raven skips over and jumps onto the lot of them, sprawling across their chests and faces until Madi erupts into a laughter that even Bellamy can’t argue Raven for. Clarke finds herself joining in, even after Raven rolls off the bed and drags Shaw inside the room, the two sitting on the spare bed in the corner. “I would like to state for the record,” Shaw begins. “That I was not involved in this idea. I was sleeping peacefully when this _menace of a woman_ woke me up. Have I mentioned that I was shot?”

 

Clarke raises her hand. “I was there, I saw it.”

 

“See, Clarke’s on my side. You’re going to come at me when Clarke fucking Griffin’s on my side.”

 

Raven rolls her eyes. “Literally no one said anything.”

 

“Whatever, I’m _tired_ because it’s like two in the morning and two in the morning is sleeping time.”

 

“Wow, you are not a morning person.” Madi observes.

 

“Am I really being sassed by a teenager at _two in the morning_?”

 

“Good god, go to sleep.” Raven chuckles, placing her hand on his face and shoving his head into the pillow.

 

“You know what?” Shaw threatens, taking the pillow out from under his head and hits Raven with it. It startles her so much that she nearly topples over, but Shaw catches her before she can.

 

“Listen up, you little punk,” Raven exclaims, flipping a leg across him and pinning him down to the bed.

 

“Woah, woah,” Clarke exclaims. “Children present.”

 

“You mean Bellamy?” Raven calls from the other side of the room.

 

“Obviously.”

 

Bellamy groans into her shoulder. “You know, Shaw has a point. I was having a great dream before these delinquents came in here.”

 

“Oh my god, why are you guys being so loud.” Murphy calls before he’s even in view. “I swear to god, if you guys are having loud sex, I’m gonna – hey, are you having a slumber party without me?” He asks when the room is into view. “How dare you! I am hurt on a level you will never understand.”

 

Bellamy lets out another groan and flips so he’s face-first into the pillow. Because she’s on this ship, surrounded by people she loves, she can’t help it; Clarke pats his butt when he does so and even though he does say anything, she can see his shoulders shaking with laughter. She beams at the back of his head, unable to control it, pressing a kiss in between his shoulder blades and he shivers.

 

Murphy drags Emori into the room, nodding at Raven to give them a blanket and extra pillow, which she shockingly obliges. Madi peers down at him judgingly, and says, “You can only stay if you say something that’s actually funny.”

 

Murphy places his hand on his chest, jokingly affronted. “Everything out of my mouth is _gold_ , pipsqueak.”

 

Madi doesn’t budge.

 

With a heavy sigh, Murphy thinks about this. “Oh, I know. Does anyone know what we should do now that we’re away from war and the Eligius crew?”

 

“What?” Madi asks.

 

Murphy’s grin stretches across his face. _“Whatever the hell we want.”_

Clarke can’t help it, she bursts out laughing. Raven and even Octavia join her, the group of them doubled over. Bellamy emerges from the pillow with a scowl. “You wanna go back to meet the Eligius crew, Murphy?” He threatens, but there’s no heat to it. Then he places a hand over her mouth to cover Clarke’s laughter, but it doesn’t help. “E tu, Brute?”

 

“You’re such a nerd,” Clarke laughs, pulling his hand down.

 

“Says the girl who cried the first time she saw a flower.”

 

“I don’t get it.” Madi says with a sigh.

 

“Neither do I, kid.” Shaw offers from the corner of the room.

 

“Are we making fun of Bellamy?” Monty asks, in one hand, holding a few pillows and blankets, the other Harper’s. Echo joins them, catching Clarke’s eye. She thought it’d be awkward, living with Echo after everything that’s happened. Except it wasn’t. Echo’s warmth came through and she genuinely seems happy. She places herself next to Murphy, who offers her a fist bump, which she surprisingly takes.

 

“Always.” Raven says, finally controlling her laughter.

 

“Awesome,” Harper smiles, joining Murphy and Emori on the floor. “I’ve missed making fun of Bellamy.”

 

Bellamy sits up. “How often does this occur?”

 

“You make it far too easy, man.” Murphy chuckles. He peers at Clarke and then Raven. “Is it weird that you two have slept with two of the same people?”

 

At the same time, both Raven and Clarke exclaim, “Are you serious?”

 

“What?” Shaw cries.

 

Bellamy buries his face in the pillow again.

 

“Not even Team Cockroach will save you now.” Clarke says darkly.

 

Madi frowns. “What’s Team Cockroach?”

 

Except she can’t bring herself to be too upset. Even with Bellamy swearing under his breath, Octavia trying not to laugh on the other side of him, and Madi frowning at her, she can’t be too mad. She’s here. She’s with them.

 

They made it.

 

“You know, we all have our own rooms for a reason.” Bellamy finally says. “Rooms where we can be sleeping? And have privacy? And not have a million people in it?”

 

“Amen, brother.” Shaw says sleepily, pumping his fist in the air.

 

“Hush, you.” Raven chuckles. “Don’t you remember we all used to sleep in tents together? There was _way_ less privacy then. I heard ev-ery-thing.”

 

Clarke covers her face and groans. “Oh god, don’t remind me.”

 

Shaw does nothing more than mumble a few more incoherent words and then a soft snoring starts. Monty throws a blanket over Harper and himself. “It’s easier to sleep with everyone around, I feel better knowing everyone’s safe.” he admits. “It’s nice being around you guys, especially when our lives aren’t in danger. Plus, we know we won’t be woken up by something horrible happening.”

 

“Maybe the horrible things are over?” Harper offers optimistically, leaning onto Monty’s chest. “Maybe we get to be done with it all.”

 

“Wishful thinking,” Murphy grumbles, but Emori takes his hand in her and he lets out a breath. “What the hell. Yeah, maybe. Let’s be optimistic and say we’re done.”

 

Turning to face him, Clarke smiles at Bellamy. “Maybe we’re done.”

 

The frustration of everyone’s appearance seems to melt away and he turns his head slightly out of the pillow and smirks. “Yeah.”

 

“Plus, the statistical probability of us finding another planet with similar attributes as earth is high. We have the entire universe to search.” Monty offers.

 

Raven yawns. “Can that be a problem for tomorrow?”

 

“Or even the next day?” Murphy asks, sliding further down the wall. “I’d like to not fear for my life for more than a day.”

 

Clarke grins at Bellamy. “I’d be okay with that.”

 

“Me too.” Bellamy agrees.

  
Everyone starts to drift off and Clarke can’t help but feel the love. It’s so prevalent, she almost forgets her worries that this is a dream. With Madi tucked to her side and Bellamy curled on her back, she tells herself it’s real, even when the small voice in the back of her mind tries to convince her otherwise. Surrounded by people she’s fought with, killed with, almost died with. The people who came to earth with her and the people they found. It’s something that can’t quite be put into words, what she feels. As Madi drifts off next to her and Octavia on the other side of Bellamy, Clarke no longer feels guilty facing him entirely.

 

Bellamy’s still awake, his dark eyes focused on her like he’s still surprised she’s here; as if he’d blink and she’d be gone. Perhaps she’s not the only one who thinks this is all too good to be real. That it’s a dream. He grips her arms and pulls her close again, Clarke resting a hand on his chest where she can feel his heart underneath her fingertips. Maybe they don’t need to think with their heads so much anymore. They could think with their hearts for once and not fear what it meant.

 

“Now what?” She whispers.

 

Bellamy pretends to think about it for a moment. With a wide grin, he says, “Whatever the hell we want.”

 

She laughs, pulling him close for a quick kiss.

 

When they opened the bunker, Bellamy compared it to Pandora’s Box. But maybe it wasn’t simply the bunker. It was everything. Every time they thought they had something good, hope flew away. Again and again. Odds after odds. The end of the world after the end of the world. They thought they finished something – _fixed_ something – and they were always wrong. They continued to open Pandora’s Box only to find the same result:

 

Hope flew away.

 

Except this time? This time they caught it.

 

_THE END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my gosh, it’s done!
> 
> For everyone worried I was making this a tragedy, I COULDN’T DO IT. I tried to put the theme in there of ‘what would’ve happened if Clarke had made it’ throughout the story – Bellamy considered this a few times, Clarke considering too. I wanted them to have their opportunity to be safe and happy.
> 
> Also, it was very important for me for Clarke to tell Bellamy she chooses him first, because I was thinking about it and has anyone ever chosen Bellamy first..??? And in case it wasn’t obvious, I have a headcanon that Clarke dreamed Bellamy was there often, because of the line, “You’re really here.” In their reunion. It made me think that she hallucinated him a bit during their time apart.
> 
> Now, I don’t know if they are going to be leaving earth after this in the actual season, but I have a feeling it might happen – to find another habitable planet. So that’s what the kids in this story are doing! And for those who wanted sexy times, there were KIDS present :P
> 
> Also, for those curious, Murphy is totally Madi’s favorite. But she’d never admit it at this point. And I really wanted to circle back to season 1, ‘Whatever the hell we want’ because a) so funny thinking back that Bellamy convinced people he wasn’t a big nerd and b) it can mean something better now.
> 
> Again, I really appreciate everyone who took the time to read this story. It means more than you can know. I hope you enjoyed the ending and SO. MUCH. LOVE.
> 
> If you ever feel like chatting or anything, I’m on tumblr! I’m chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fun, cheery reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> Next Chapter will take place immediately after, but will be in Bellamy’s POV!
> 
> I would love to know your thoughts!


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